


Coffee Break

by poland



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-19
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-01-13 01:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1208119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poland/pseuds/poland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just an average meeting at a coffee shop. For my 100 LTP Drabble Challenge; Not!Drabble 038 of 100.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 001

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a drabble but then it became a fic. A ten part fic. Oops!

Feliks really, really did not want to be there.

But alas, he had to be. Opening the door of the shop, his breath was almost taken away as he stepped in from the cold into an almost unbearably hot atmosphere. He did end up coughing a little, looking around to make sure he hadn't caught any undue attention. Moving to stand in line for the counter, he noticed that he was pretty much a step away from the end; the line wound around a turnstile and was about twenty-two people deep.

His job usually accounted for a lot of over the phone and email contacts, but occasionally his boss wanted to actually meet face for face, like for evaluations, big discussions, and the occasional check in. Because coffee shops typically had Wi-Fi, those were common places that he'd get called to to have a meeting.

He'd gotten out of bed an hour late and still arrived twenty minutes before the meeting was going to be held, which was a miracle on his part. But he wished he could have been up earlier enough so he could make his own coffee. He reasoned, half dead, that hey, it's a coffee place. He can just buy coffee. But then once there, Feliks began to rethink this whole thing. He looked over his shoulder quickly but there were already more people approaching the door. If he got out of line, people would wonder what was up. Not that he was concerned about being rude (he honestly didn't think of things like that much) but he didn't want to feel people's eyes looking at him. More than anything, he wanted to just go back to bed. Why was the line so long? A few people and a counter person he could handle but the crowd in there made him nervous.

The line seemed to move slowly. Feliks kept looking around, hoping to see his boss. If she showed up, he could get out of the line and sit and get out. Or convince her to get coffee for the two of them; they'd been friends for a long time. Getting coffee now seemed like the worst idea in the world. There were seven people in front of him now. It was a while before there were six.

It seemed like fifteen minutes passed before he was at the counter. Once he got there, he didn't even notice. He was more preoccupied with how uneven his shoelaces were and how the snow outside had gotten his nice socks and corduroys dirty. Feliks was finally shocked out of his staring by a louder than normal "May I help you, sir?"

He looked up, eyes wide with a gasp, to see a man staring at him with his own wide eyes. "Sorry, we're just a little packed so we have to be a little speedy." He ran his hands down a wet apron, brown and white spots where leftover creams and caramels had splashed. "So can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah." Feliks quietly mumbled, reaching in his back pocket for his wallet. "I want a hot one but sweet. And, uh, big. What is that called."

The man stared at him, hands hovering over the cash register buttons. He blinked before speaking again with the patience of a saint. "We have handout menus to your right and a large menu above." Gesturing with a shoulder.

"Oh, yeah, I know." Feliks embarrassedly snatched one of the folded menus. "Duh."

He looked at it for five seconds. Everything on it had a foreign name. What were all these Italian words? Was he supposed to know Italian to order? He gulped quietly.

"One of these!" He quickly spit out, just turning the menu toward the cashier and pointing blindly. Whatever, it'd get him out of the line.

"Alright, that's a nice one...are you sure for today, though?"

"Yeah, positive." He looked cross. Why question him? Don't make him stand there longer than necessary.

"What size? Can I get a name? Yours, I mean." The man asked, hovering one hand over a section of cups in various sizes and grabbed a permanent marker with the other."

"The biggest one. And, uhm. Feliks"

"Alright. It'll be brought right over to you."

After handing over his credit card and paying, he couldn't have left the line faster. He quickly found a table in the corner, flopping down and removing the bag he'd had on his shoulder. Taking out his laptop, he quickly typed in the password and opening up the one document he had on his desktop. Now all he had to do was wait and only talk to his boss. He was just too shy to want to deal with any other people.

He strummed his fingers on the keys, looking at the spreadsheet on his computer. He just had to wait for his boss. That was all. Before long, steps approached his table and stopped. He looked up and didn't see his boss but the cashier with a drink in hand, paper towl wrapped around it.

"Here you are. Hope it's what you wanted?" He asked questioningly. Feliks looked at him with a look of confused frustration and then at the drink. He saw why pretty much immediately.

It was something with a lot of ice in it. An iced drink when the temperature was almost in the negatives outside.

"No, this is definitely not what I wanted." He took the paper towel off with two fingers like it was dirty, trying his best to save face and not look too embarrassed. All that was revealed was more ice and a milky colour. "Uh, I wanted what was under it. Like a hot thing."

"Well," the cashier extracted a folded and dingy menu from his apron pocket. "Everything in the column you pointed to is frosted." Laying the menu down and showing him. He was busted but then the man asked another question which made him sigh with relief. "Did you mean another page?"

"Oh...yeah. Definitely." Cocking his head and pushing falling hair behind his ear. "Uhm...where's the hot ones?"

"This page." Flipping it over and pointing to a page that even had a large 'HOT' across the top. Figures.

"Is...there one that's sweet? Super sweet?" He asked, feeling a little more at ease than at the line where there weren't people behind him and all around. His corner seemed a little more empty since it was closer to another door and therefore a little chilly. One person asking simple questions was doable.

"We can make any of them as sweet as you'd like. Extra syrups or powders are only fifteen extra cents, twenty for our largest cups."

"I'll get this one then." Pointing at a description he'd actually read. Chocolate, whipped cream, a fruit topping. Basically a dessert in a coffee. "And add more chocolate. Uh, here's my card-"

He moved to get his credit card back out of his wallet again. The man cut him off.

"Please, since it was an honest mistake, it's fine. If anything, please take this card and leave a positive review." The cashier extracted a long white cardboard piece of paper and placed it on the table, taking the drink away.

***

When Feliks' boss finally came in, she was dripping wet and obviously agitated.

"Sorry I'm so late. The snow is unbelievable coming from the northside. You been here long?"

"Like an hour now." Feliks had sat his laptop aside and was pouring over something, hair hanging down and a pen pushing and wiggling through it.

She sucked her teeth. "Can you believe this weather? It's unreal...what are you doing?"

"I'm filling out one of those customer service cards," he looked up and took a strawberry off the top of his drink, the hot part of it almost melted through the heavy whipping cream. 

"Oh God." She sat down across from him, having taken her coat off. "Did they screw something up?" She leaned in with a harsh whisper. "Did you find a bug? I heard they had horrible bugs in here once. Not that I have issues with them but I would if I found one in my coffee. Disgusting. It's open so, I guess that got dealt with. It was just a rumor."

"No, it's a good one. But, ew, bug coffee. You're so gross, Lis." He explained, sitting up, flipping the card over a few times, wrinkling his brows as he pictured a roach swimming in iced coffee. "Like, really good. Good enough to waste my time filling this out."

"What'd I miss? Customer service isn't dead?" She folded her hands, gently overlapping them. "Oh, and we do still need to talk."

Rolling his eyes, Feliks leaned back. "For your information, I got free coffee. Like, on the house free coffee. And guess what." He quickly shot back forward and whispered something shameful to him. "It was my. Fault."

"Ohhh." She nodded, looking smug. "Can I hear that again? The fabled words?"

"Nope. But whatever. Free coffee. Free extra chocolate." He took another fruit from the top. "Free extra fruit. I didn't even ask for that. See? Want one?"

She'd already plucked one off of the top before he'd asked. "And what'd you do to get that?" Lis asked, chewing.

"I just got the wrong thing. The guy was super nice. Like, nicer than usual nice." Taking a loud sip and dipping his finger in his whipping cream. It felt nice being with his old friend and boss. Natural. "Figured the least I could do is fill one of these out."

"Let me see." Lis snatched it from the other side of the table. "I've got a theory here...ah. See. Your phone number's listed."

"Oh gosh, yeah. See if you fill these out, you're entered into this thing and you could win something. See, right at the top. They call you. And like, even I can put up with a call if it's giving me free stuff, you know?"

"Feliks." She tossed it back, watching it land on the table. "You're being duped."

"Duped?" Taking more whipped cream. "How? Isn't the business getting duped? I got the free stuff after all."

"No, God, you are so clueless sometimes. All the time." Lis folded her arms across her chest. "You're being duped because you're being hit on."

His face paled and he gave her a cockeyed look. "What?!" A little too loudly.

"Okay so." She stuck her elbow on the table now, fist in the air, extending a digit with every word. "First, free drink. Then, a way to get your number. How do you turn these things in?" Lis peered over, reading the bottom. "'Please turn into the residing cashier.' Is that who gave it to you?"

Suddenly they were both craning their necks behind and around them. There were a few people hovering around the counter which also served as a dessert cabinet, but when they subsided, Feliks could see him, swiping a credit card. It wasn't often he remembered a face, but since it was only about a half hour ago and he was nice, Feliks remembered. The brown hair, the quick hands as they did three or four things at once. The stained apron.

"Yeah, that guy."

"Mmmm." She leaned over and nodded. "Not bad. Could be worse."

"Oh my gosh, will you stop. Do you not leave your house or something? Sometimes nice people do nice stuff, you know?" Lis, during all the years he'd known her, had had a certain...interest in things like this. If someone gave someone she know a look that was even anywhere near meaningful, she was completely sure that they were destined to be in each other's arms.

"You're the one who doesn't leave your house. I'm the one who's engaged, remember?" Wiggling her finger at him as they sat back into comfortable positions. "So I think I know."

"No, you don't." He rolled his eyes, though obviously embarrassed. There was no way that was what it was. Absolutely not.

"Okay. Well. Here we go. Let's talk about what we need to talk about. It's about, uh, almost half past eleven, right?" She looked at her watch as Feliks looked at his laptop clock, nodding. "I bet he goes on lunch soon and he'll come over to get that card. If he does, then I'm right. But if it's not a big deal, and you have to go turn it in, then you're right. And I'll buy you cake."

He hoped and prayed he was right. That cake looked good.

***

After discussing several business dealings and inputting new totals and cash amounts into the spreadsheet, their lunch meeting was over by half past noon. Several times Feliks would look up and see a distracted Lis with her eyes narrowed, almost falling off of her chair, looking towards the counter. Shaking his head, he continued. He definitely wanted that cake but he also didn't want to be embarrassed anymore today. He'd already made a really stupid mistake and had to have it fixed. That was really all it was. He was thankful it wasn't some employee that was frustrated and angry and causing a scene instead of someone nice who got things done calmly.

He was in the middle of explaining this funny news story to his companion and boss when she spoke up, though under her breath.

"He's not there. Shift change."

"...You are obsessed."

"Not at all! But it's interesting. I am so completely sure I'm right, it's basically written in the Bible."

"It is not in the Bible."

"You would know. I bet you, I bet you! He'll be here. You watch."

"If he comes over," Feliks explained. "It'll be because he's got nothing better to do. Plus, don't some places give out bonuses or prizes for getting these? There's a name on it, right? He probably wants it for that."

"There's a name on there?" She looked back at it. "No, there's not. There's a place for one, but it's not there!"

Feliks looked at it himself. Indeed, one of the first and biggest things to fill out was 'Name of employee who dispensed card:'. Damn.

"He's going to come over here and you have to ask his name and he gets your number and in three years you'll be married with five kids and a dog. That's how things like this go."

"You're nuts-o." He was getting animated. "You are just crazy! How does anyone put up with you? How do I put up with you?"

"Are your ears hot?" Lis reached across the table, causing him to shrink away. "I know you're embarrassed when your ears are hot."

"I could get you for sexual harassment!" He threatened, though playfully, scooting his chair way back as she reached across the table with her half of her body.

"Can I, uhm, take this away? Sorry to interrupt."

They both turned in surprise. There was a finger pointing to the dregs of whipped cream in Feliks' plastic coffee cup. Attached to the finger was a man in a stained white shirt and a stained apron.

"Yes, you may. You're not interrupting anything." Lis sat back down as if nothing was going on, smiling widely. "Also, my employee here had a question for you. Feliks."

Turning and smiling at him, she wiggled her nose mischeviously. If he were the kind to use many expletives, he would have let out a string.

"Oh, aha, uhm. I filled this thing out but I..." He suddenly felt as if his throat was swollen. Damn Lis. Damn this stupid meeting. Damn this coffee, no matter how good it turned out to be.

"Oh, you need this." The cashier leaned over and pointed to the spot that was blank. "Oh, and thank you for this by the way. If you grab a pen, I can spell it for you? People say it's a little hard. Normally we have nametags but mine got lost in a mixer this morning."

Feliks just nodded, wide-eyed. Why was he suddenly shy again? He grabbed the pen and hurriedly bent over the card, at the ready.

"T. O-r. I-s." What a weird name, he mused, as he wrote it. Foreign. Not like he could talk but at least his name was a form of a pretty normal name.

"Okay. Uh, here. Weird" Taking it quikly, he handed the card back to him. Thank God that was over. He studied the man, Toris, as he read it over.

"Thanks, again, this is really nice of you." He nodded as he read it, smiling slightly. "I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting or anything."

"No, no." Lis quickly replied, almost snapping. "So, these little cards, huh? Do you get some bonus or something? I've thought about doing something similar myself in the office so I just wonder what the big goal is." Feliks gave her a look that said 'You know good and well you don't have the authority and in this line of business they'd be useless.' but she ignored it completely.

"Well, not really." Lis' eyes went wide. "It's sort of like that, but these only get filled out probably once or twice a month at the most so it's kind of useless. But it's nice to be one of the two, so it's still worth something." He laughed lightly. Feliks looked at him with squinted eyes. Cake was at stake here...so did that make them both right? Was it a half victory? A half a cake?

"Well, Feliks told me what you did and I'm grateful." Lis patted the top of her friend and employee's hand like a mother would. "He's not exactly the most outgoing, you know."

Feliks' eyes immediately widened, mortified. "Oh my God, what did you just say?" The fact that he both used the name of the Lord and said that outloud were milestones.

Toris just laughed again, though he was sure it was just politely this time. "It's fine, it's fine. Mistakes happen, especially when it's so cold. Oh, uhm." He felt around the pockets of his apron for a second, finally reaching in. "We also have individual marketing cards. It's actually more of a competition than a bonus or anything but-"

He pulled out a brightly designed card and set it on the table, then tapped it with his hand. "It's a promotional thing where if you bring these in and we sell patrons with these coffee and-or other food items," Toris stared at the ceiling as if recalling what was said to him with as much detail as possible. "Not only do we get perks, but a discount is applied to your purchase based on the number, like this one." pointing to a bright yellow circle, "This is ten percent off, twenty, thirty, and then the last one is free. So ten."

Lis smiled as he spoke, nodding along and looking at him. Feliks looked at the card and nodded as well.

"So would you like one?"

Feliks continued to stare at the card but after a pause he looked up to find the cashier staring at him with expectant eyes.

"Sure, I guess." Laughing nervously. Lis was wrong. Dead wrong. He was getting the card because he actually bought something. Just like he got something for free because he made a mistake. It was really that simple.

"Alright, thank you. I'll put my name on it." This time Toris got down, squatting to be level with the table and extracting a pen from his apron that seemed to hold literally everything in the world. He jotted down his name. A big sweeping top to the 'T' and an 'o' that didn't come full circle. Ah. He would definitely remember that name.

"Thank you." Lis replied, though it wasn't her place. "We'll be sure to have more meetings here."

"Good, good. Oh and while I'm here." He made a swooping check on one of the boxes. "There's your first one."

"But I didn't buy anything." Feliks stared dumbly, looking from the check to Toris who stood up.

"Ah it's alright. It helps us both out...or we could do it fair and square, if you want. Maybe that is better." He began to take out another but Feliks stopped him.

"No, it's cool. Cool. I mean, less money to spend, right?"

Toris gave him a look that wasn't exactly strange but not normal before he laughed again. "Thank you. It's honestly a help. Oh, and." He picked the almost-empty cup back up and shook it. "I forgot. Got to get rid of this. Please come back anytime you wish."

He turned on his heel, taking the cup away and disappearing through a door that said STAFF in big green letters. The two at the table were quiet for a second before Lis started to laugh.

"Okay so _that_ is not just good customer service." She pointed after him, almost shaking with laughter.

"You're really deluded." He didn't see what was funny or so believable. "Like, wow. You should be locked up."

"You get a free card. With a free check. He wrote his name _twice_. Where's my card, huh? He's got a thing for you. Enjoy it. Come back and get more free stuff."

"You didn't buy anything, I did. He probably gives those out to everyone. What was it? Some kind of, uh...competition. Remember he said something like it was helping him?" Feliks shrugged, saving his document one last time and preparing to close his laptop. "He's just a good business man or. Whatever. Besides, what's the chance of coming in here and seeing him again?"

"Do you want to?"

"Are you kidding me? There's got to be a word for nosy, gross chicks like you. But nosy gross chick fits pretty well."

She leaned back and shrugged, an expression of agreeance. "Yeah, probably. Oh but. I still won. So you know what that means?"

"Uh...you're never going to shut your mouth about it?"

"No." She laughed, grabbing her coat and getting out of her chair as he closed his laptop and put it back in his bag. He grabbed the card, considering leaving it. But if he did come back, he got cheaper things. That was never bad. And maybe, just maybe, he would get more free things. He quickly slid it over and stuck it in as well. It couldn't hurt.

"Then what?" Feliks stood up, zipping up his jacket again. He was not looking forward to getting on the subway again in this weather. "Also, can you give me a ride? It's crazy cold and like, my pants are already probably ruined."

"Yeah, sure, stop wearing those when it's wet out. But, like I was saying...you owe me cake."

"That was _so_ not agreed upon."

"I won so my prize is cake. Seduce the new cashier and then we'll get that for free too."

Feliks flushed and grumbled as he at least pushed his chair in. He would never understand why Lis was always so ridiculous.


	2. 002

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oops x2, blasts into the sun.

November came quickly and somehow the abnormally early snow got worse. There were closings of schools for days on end, shop closings for a week. Feliks was both glad and upset he didn't have a car. Being stuck in that much traffic would have driven him crazy but walking to a subway station, sitting in cold subway cars, and then walking where he needed to go had it's own form of maddening torture. Not to mention repeating it once he was done with his errand.

Which was why he was out again today. He'd called Lis multiple times but she refused to answer. He would have prefered a ride into town to go get his suit fitted. Hell, it was for _her_ wedding. But no, no answer, and eventually straight to voicemail. He vowed to never speak to her again, though the whole errand itself contradicted it entirely.

The downtown area was almost completely dead, which he was thankful for. Walking quickly down the salted sidewalk which was still accumulating inches of snow, he huffed angrily, which was also helping his nose not freeze off. Numerous stores had signs that stated they were closed until further notice. Thank goodness that the place he was going wasn't closing. He thought to himself that if it was closed when he got there, his anger and frustration might just melt him through the pavement.

Thankfully, it wasn't, and he had to spend an insufferable hour getting fitted for a suit he thought was ugly. Truthfully, Lis did too ("But Fel, the male attire isn't my decision! I'd give you a nice dress but he'd go _nuts_!), but there was no getting around the horrible forrest green fabric and horrible blue ties and horrible gold links that rounded it all out with horrible white dress shoes. Four horribles were all he could use to describe it. He stood there, fuming not so silently as he looked at himself in the mirror at the shop, being poked with pins and needles (which he just _knew_ was on purpose). Feliks could not wait to get home.

Leaving the suit shop three hundred dollars poorer and three hundred times moodier than when he left his house, he stepped back outside into even more snow on the ground. He had worn different pants this time, just normal slacks that would just get wet and not buffered, so at least he was thankful for that. Walking though, became increasingly more ridiculous as more snow fell. While he was exaggerating it to himself, it felt like feet and feet of snow had fallen between one block and the next. Feet cold, nose cold, hair cold enough that if he touched it it would break off (He swore!), he didn't make his next decision lightly.

It was only two blocks and two alley ways out of the way, so it wasn't a big deal to get there. It wasn't until he saw the lights on, neatly shoveled entrance, and sign that declared an opening that he thought about how he should have considered it may not have been open at all. But it was so he couldn't think about it too long. The coffee shop was open, praise the Lord.

When he opened the door and felt the same rush of heat that would melt butter in seconds, he could feel the moisture evaporate from his body and his breath was almost taken away yet again. Ah, yes. This is what heat felt like. Because of the snow and closings, Feliks saw only two other people on the large floor as he quickly darted his eyes around the area. Also, he noticed there was no one at the counter at that second. There was a doorbell, so one would be there soon, but all he thought about was how grateful he was. This gave him time to recall what exactly he ordered last time.

Well, he didn't exactly order it. But close enough.

He'd only been at the counter for a minute, nose in one of the folded menus, when he heard movement behind him: an opening of a door, the sound of fabric touching and moving, a metal cooking utensil clanging against something. He hadn't found what he wanted yet...but if he didn't order right then, then they'd think he was weird. If he'd been there for so long, he should know what he wanted, right? Please don't look at him too long. It'd make his face go red and he'd end up leaving.

Feliks removed the menu from his face, ready to just spit out the name of the last thing he remembered seeing but stopped quickly when he saw who was working. He couldn't decide whether to be more or less embarrassed.

"Oh, hello." Toris replied, using what Feliks had to assume was a polite and cheery voice used for customer service. "Thank you for returning. What can I get you this time."

"Uhm!" Feliks uttered a little too urgently. "I-"

"Same as last time? Well, not the first thing. The second thing." He offered, hands ready to push the buttons on the register to ring up the drink. Feliks said a small prayer to make sure God blessed this man, his coffee saviour.

"Yeah, ahaha, that's exactly what I was going to say. Exactly!" He nervously laughed, a bit too obvious that he was completely lying. "And a, aha..." His eyes darted over to the dessert case. He had to order something that he actually knew the name of. He couldn't look this uncool. Even he was aware of how pathetic he seemed.

"A golden brownie. The yellowy kind." Patting the counter, now full of surety. Yes. He said the name of one item. They were again even.

"Oh, those are popular. Absolutely. May I see your card?" Toris asked, looking at Feliks and extending his left hand while his right furiously hit buttons. Feliks stared at it for possibly too long as Toris gestured slightly with his extended hand. Lis was right. When he was embarrassed, his ears did go warm and red.

Taking out his wallet he flipped around in it, finally extracting one of the various cards it held. As he did so, though, he suddenly remembered something. A brightly coloured card he extracted after he handed Toris his credit card.

"Also, this thing." He replied, nonchalantly putting it on the counter as well as his wallet, looking away. Feliks didn't feel as shy as he could be, as timid as he'd be around another stranger. But he still felt a little nervous and skittish.

"Oh, good. Another check. Hold on, sign your receipt and then I'll check you." Sliding a piece of paper over and a ballpoint pen. Feliks picked it up quickly, looking down to sign his name on the line. Putting the pen down just once, he watched in horror as a large spot of black ink trickled out, quickly causing a huge blot. He tried to sign anyway but could barely get through "Feli" before the ink was out. He looked up hoping that Toris would notice, though he was staring at the front door.

He decided to make a noise, sucking his teeth, instead of saying anything about it. Thankfully it worked.

"Oh did it break? I'm sorry. Please don't get any on you. Uhm." He fretted around, patting down his apron. Feliks assumed there had to be a pen in there since everything else seemed to be but after his apron he moved to the counter, scooting over a display and ringing up the register to open the drawer.

"I'm sorry to ask but do you happen to have a...?" Toris trailed off, a little sheepish now himself. Feliks picked up his bag from the straps, opening the front flap. He definitely knew he had a pen but was a little wary of extracting it. As he did, he looked at it disdainfully. Both ends were obviously chewed. From time to time, when he was on the phone or on hold and didn't have food within reach, he'd chew on the ends and the clip. Closing the flap, he pushed his bag back down again, repeating his movements and signing the receipt; thankfully his own pen worked.

He moved to hand the pen over, hoping that he wouldn't be met with a glare or a harsh grab of a pen that was, by his own admission, a little gross, but Toris took it without blinking, bending down slightly himself to find the appropriate circle and checking it. He handed the pen back with a smile.

"Sorry about that. It's always something, isn't it?" Feliks took the pen quickly and shoved it in a jacket pocket. Thank goodness that transaction was over. Nodding as Toris moved back after putting the signed receipt back in the drawer. Feliks wasn't sure, but he had to guess the place was understaffed or something. It seemed like this guy was not only a cashier but also a server and a baristo. He shook his head and went to go sit down.

The same seat he'd had at first was open, but right in front of it was a woman who sat tapping at her computer. Though she was obviously wrapped up in her own work, he wasn't going to risk it and instead took a booth this time, right near where he was standing.

Taking out his computer, he typed in his password and opened up his email. It was only because of Lis he knew how to turn it on or open anything at all. Without an email program, he'd be completely lost. Looking at the contact list on the side, it appeared that she was now at her computer. He figured he'd test it out, quickly typing out an email.

{ u yet up? }


She replied quickly.

[ yes, working. i've been up. ]  
{ u werent up when i called u 88888888 times this morning ?? }  
[ oh i was just busy ;) ]  
{ gross }  
[ how did the fitting go? was it as ugly as it looked in the planning photo? ]  
{ yes & worse }


They went on for a few minutes, their relationship as old friends more apparent than their positions as a boss and employee.

[ oh yeah. you back home? i'll come over for a little bit if you want. ]  
{ no still out }  
[ oh where? i'll meet you ]  
{ coffee place. w8ing for cu (haha its a cup!) }


He was close to cutting off the spam email chain when he was approached by the sound of rubber soled feet. Toris arrived from behind him, Feliks instinctively lowering his laptop screen, and presenting him with a large and fruity coffee as well as a small, folded paper bag.

"Here you are. Sorry, I didn't know you were on a business call." He whispered, backing up. "Please tell me if you need anything else."

"No! Gosh, it was just an email, nothing weird!" He apparently didn't see anything, not that it was exactly incriminating. "I mean, uh-"

Feliks was cut off as he heard his laptop make a small pinging noise. A new email. Opening his laptop again, it was Lis.

[ so is a certain someone there? ]


Completely gross to the third power.

"You mean...?" Toris started, causing Feliks to look back up from his computer. Oops, he was talking, wasn't he?

"I mean, uh, it's cool. You didn't interrupt anything. Just something gross."

"Gr...oss?"

Oh no, he actually said that out loud. "Yeah! Like a...chain email! Something gross like that!" He laughed loudly, and he knew stupidly. "You know those! You get those!"

"Oh, yeah, I do. Anyway, sorry about that."

Feliks quickly snapped back to his computer screen, completely mortified. If anything was gross, that was gross. He quickly replied.

{ i h8 u im not coming to your dumb wedding xxxxx }  
[ don't say that and then send me a bunch of kisses. what happened? ]  
{ no! bad xs! like bzzt ur out xs! }  
[ dramatic even in an email. ]


Feliks sipped his coffee with a pout. It was hot but he was determined to ignore her. He could close his computer but he liked doing something out in public. He felt it made him look important and hard-working while also causing people to avoid talking to him unnecessarily.

[ answer my question! :( ]


Lis wasn't letting up, but what else was new.

{ yeah hes here. but dont u think gross things! }  
[ its not gross. :) cute xoxo ]  
{ bad xs and bad os 4 u }


As he was typing away furiously, he was too distracted to notice that someone was back at his table until there was a loud tapping. Making a noise of shock he wasn't proud of, he whipped his head back up, looking at the source. It was Toris again. Without even looking he typed something out.

{ jrs lakr }


Also known as "he's back."

"I don't mean to interrupt you again, but this is a little important I think." Toris whispered again, the hand not on the table in his apron. He extracted something that made Feliks gasp.

"How'd you get my wallet?" He asked, voice going a little high in both surprise and fluster.

"I..." Toris seemed taken aback. "Well, you left it, I think..."

It took Feliks a little bit too long to realize that it could have seemed like he was being accusatory. "Ugh, maybe. It's cold so..." The excuse had nothing to do with why he was distracted and left his wallet at the counter. Not wanting to talk anymore, he stuck his hand out, a tad aggressively, but Toris placed it in his palm gently.

"Sorry to bother you, I'm sure you come here to get work done." He continued to whisper, backing up again.

"It's, uh, not work. I work at home, you know? So don't worry about it." Feliks felt like that was enough to wave him off. He'd already been embarrassed enough that day, between random dudes putting their hands places they didn't need to be while being fitted for that ugly suit and not knowing what to order again and his embarrassing pen and the ink and then the gross thing. He was a mess. No wonder he didn't like leaving his house.

"Oh, from home? I've never heard of something like that. What is it you do?"

Feliks didn't think of how this was probably a little familiar for a cashier-slash-baristo-slash-server, because when it came to talking about himself, he sure was a champ. Especially when it was about something that could be considered impressive.

"It's like...I work at a real estate place? And the people that sell houses make commision and have to figure out all kinds of money stuff with houses and selling and everything. So I get to put all those numbers together and figure stuff out. It's cool, right? I mostly just do a bunch of stuff with spreadsheets, and it can be really yawn sometimes, but it's a totally cool job, huh?"

"Yeah, cool." Toris laughed, not expecting such a long and proud answer from someone who'd proven to be a little awkward and skittish. "It sounds like you're living the good life."

"Yeah." Feliks laughed back. "Probably better than a coffee shop thing, huh?"

There was a small awkward silence while they both recognized how rude that was.

"Oh but!" Feliks quickly tried to save himself. "But it's kind of cool how you do so much, huh? It's like one job then another job then another job. So three jobs! Dude three jobs is...cool, I guess."

As he went on he could feel himself losing steam as Toris' face changed from awkward shyness to a wide-eyed stare. Feliks cut himself off, instead focusing his mouth on his coffee.

"I guess so. Well, it's really one job." Toris finally admitted, not looking so uncomfortable. "I'm actually the morning manager."

"Oh. Is that why you can give out free stuff?" Feliks asked this innocently, out of curiosity.

"...Well, kind of. But, I mean, I guess I can't help but be jealous of someone who works with all that money and those totals so easily. I have to do the register log at the end of the week and even small amounts like that can get a little overwhelming."

"It's easy!" Feliks proclaimed, excited to speak about something he could with ease. "I can totally do it. Hand me all of that stuff from years and years and I could do it, not even in an hour I bet!"

"It's impressive." Toris commented. Feliks could feel himself beam with pride. "We have one of those computer programs but it's not exactly as good as pen and paper stuff."

"If you send it to me I could do it in two seconds. Like, a blink of an eye." Feliks nodded, more than a little smug.

"Well, if I ever need someone to double check when tax time comes, I'll make sure to call you."

His shyness had completely melted away by this exchange of pleasantries (sort of) and a topic he could feel confident in. "I'll totally give you my number. Text or call or whatever. I'll totally do whatever you need!"

"It's okay, I have it already." Toris said, smiling. "Thank you for the offer. I'll definitely take you up on that sometime."

And he walked off.

Feliks immediately took back to his computer. Something was puzzling him, now.

{ hey lis u still around }


A few minutes later, there was a reply.

[ yeah, what do you need? ]  
{ i have a ? for u. }  
[ :) of course. what is it fel? ]  
{ if u just do a favor for some 1, but its like a job, do u still need to file taxes 4 that ??? }  
[ what? no, it's just a favor. what's going on over there? ]  
{ i think he asked me to do his taxes ?? }  
[ how do you screw up something so badly that you're doing his taxes ]  
{ what do u mean screw up ? this is cool! i just dont know how 2 do this. do i need a w2. mayB i work here now idk }  
[ you are literally insufferable. ]  
{ Y RNT YOU HELPING ME }  
[ you're too far gone to help now. :( i'll visit you in a retirement home one day, doing taxes. LOL ]  
{ u rnt even helpful in the 1st place, y do i ask }


Feliks sipped on his coffee indignantly. How frustrating.

[ do you like this guy? be honest. ]  
{ how do i like a guy i dont even no }  
[ well what about how he looks? ]  
{ messy. }


He did indeed look over his shoulder, subtle not being a term he was familiar with, and examined him a little more closely. There weren't any people in line so there was no one to check out and no one to make coffee for. Toris seemed to have money on the mind now as he was taking out and scribbling on receipts; Feliks even recognized his at the bottom of the stack in his hand just by the large ink spot. Admittedly, he was a shallow kind of guy. Thus he examined him from scalp to waist, which was all he could see as of then.

[ just give me a number or something, he's not bad. ]


Well, his hair was nice. He appreciated longer hair on a guy more than he cared to admit. He did not, appreciate, however, that there was obviously no love lost when it came to Toris and his own hair. There were various food substances in it, fresh from the day's work, frizzy in the back, and a section of it where it should be parted in the middle was going off to the right. Face wise, not bad either. Nice green eyes, the nose wasn't half bad, he didn't like how Toris seemed to be a little bit of a lip biter but he coul tell that there was a little bit of chapstick put on to try to hide a little nibbling scar. Clean shaven earned a him another number. Shoulders, check. Chest...was he actually doing this?

{ i am not doing this. }  
[ give me a number. ]  
{ 8 }  
[ not bad honestly. could do worse. ]  
{ there is no doing! dont you make that gross either i will be mad and object @ ur wedding }  
[ hee hee hee hee hee ]


He ran his hands through his hair. Here she was, getting him wrapped up in things like this. Definitely gross. Definitely.

Feliks closed his laptop, coffee half gone but still hot which would prove useful going back to his house on the subway. The last time they were here, he and Lis, they'd left without tipping. Was it customary to tip? It seemed like it wouldn't hurt. Feliks was good with the numbers in money but money itself he was a little more willy nilly with. He took out his wallet, which he made sure he had this time, and took out a ten and put it on the table.

Toris yelled "Come back soon!" to him as he left.


	3. 003

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. This took a while, I'm sorry!
> 
> Also thank you to a certain someone for giving me lots of headcanon conversation which is where a few of these little personal detail ideas came from (　´∀｀) please check out ao3 user lachoy!!!
> 
> Also thank y'all for all the hits and kudos, wowie.
> 
> also I can't believe I left some self notes in the summary, are you kidding me, look at this moron.

Toris was due to get off of work in fifteen minutes. There was a very deep set water ring that he began to continually trace with a thin finger. He'd only have to wait a few moments and the place wasn't exactly throbbing with customers. It was a little later in the day, in between the early morning, pre-work rush and before the barely-have-anytime-to-refill-for-lunch crowd. Still, he was anxious to get off of work. He'd had an eight day straight work week, two of which he wasn't going to be paid for, and he finally had a day where he didn't have to come in. Getting off at eleven was a God send. Almost thirty-six hours to himself, which he hoped he would spend at least half of those sleeping, though that was unlikely.

\-----

Feliks was almost done with a rough morning, hoping to have a better afternoon. He'd had to go back to that suit shop to pick up his finished suit two weeks later and he still couldn't believe how ugly it was. The colours, the cut. Imagining the rest of the wedding party, he could not pick a single person that this would look good on. If he couldn't pull this off, they couldn't.

Not wanting to brave the midday subway, he'd tried to hail a taxi which also seemed to be a fruitless effort. Four must have passed Feliks, even with his hand out, foot out, whole body half in the lane. Standing in the gutter, he groaned loudly. No one told him only toddlers stamped their feet on the ground when they were angry, either.

Quickly, whipping out his phone, he quickly tried to open the browser. He couldn't really use a lot of functions on his phone or his computer, aside from the programs he needed for work, texting, and simple internet browsing. It wasn't hard to type "taxi service" into his Safari and come up with a yellow pages reference. If anything, he appreciated that you just had to tap a phone number and it did the dialing for you. Feliks appreciated any lazy makers.

Stepping up to the corner of the block, suit sloppily tucked under one arm. The ringing tone made the pit of his stomach kind of sloshy, asking a stranger to come get him and all. At the corner, though, he stopped, staring down the block. After another ring and what might have been someone picking up, he hung up. He could call a taxi when the lunch rush was over. Right now his knotting stomach wanted something else.

\-----

Since coffee shops that only really only served coffees and pastry weren't the epitome of lunch except for possible to-go business meeting runs, the crowd wasn't exactly a strong one. He saw only five other people in the seats, most far spaced from each other. Ducking into the line area, there was a cashier humped over on the counter. They were familiar.

Toris looked lost in thought, thin finger going around in circles on the smooth surface of the countertop. Feliks was sure that the business wasn't exactly great that day, considering a mostly-full deli compartment comprised of desserts and the place didn't look like it was used too much from other customers.

As he approached the counter, he expected the drowsy cashier to at least acknowledge him, but he still continued to swirl his finger. Feliks was close enough to see what exactly he was doing: tracing a water ring. His eyes seemed unfocused as if he was lulled into a trance or a zombie-like state. Feliks wasn't one to draw attention to himself, so he simply stood close by, checking his shoes, looking for little streaks of mud and frayed laces to fix later. He wondered, silently, how long before he actually would be served.

Sooner than he thought, as a startling noise suddenly came from nowhere: the ringtone of a text message.

Toris didn't even seem as surprised as Feliks as he embarrassedly froze. It chimed again as Toris shot up, at attention.

"I— I'll let you get that." Toris jerkily coughed, straightening the front of his apron and stained dress shirt.

"Y-Yeah!" Feliks answered, patting down his jacket with the free arm he did have. His phone was in the breast pocket, which he quickly retrieved, looking at it awkwardly. It of course was Lis. "how did the suit turn out?"

"Gross." Feliks replied to his phone, not thinking. He glanced up to a strange look from Toris, both bemused and concerned. Why did this word keep causing problems?

"Uh, I mean. It's stupid. I can order, right?"

"Yeah, of course. Sorry about that. I hope you weren't waiting too long." Toris pushed some buttons on the cash register, barely breaking eye contact. It was almost alarming. "Do you want something different? Or the usual."

Feliks felt only slightly embarrassed that he'd been there enough and become predictable enough to be dubbed someone who got "the usual". But it was only twice before this he'd ordered the same thing, right? Whatever. In this scenario, he wasn't exactly too off put by being memorable, even if it was mortifying at the time.

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Should I add on the brownie again? We're not in short supply." Said a little dryly. The dessert case was indeed full.

"Sure." Feliks replied. It didn't seem like a bad idea. The place was virtually empty. The only person he could see was an older gentleman nursing a coffee and a newspaper. It was extremely freeing.

"Alright, thank you. Your cards?" The process was much smoother this time. Feliks extracted his wallet from his pants pocket, grabbing his credit card and discount card. Toris took them both, sliding the credit card, checking the third mark on the other. No awkward mistakes. Feliks signed the receipt without a hitch. He was smiling as he collected his things and went to a middle table this time. Even with his ugly suit in tow, he felt a little bold today.

Toris was over within a few minutes, nodding and smiling while Feliks had his laptop open, spreadsheet before him. He thanked him in a short but sweet manor. This was comfortable. Better than being in a cab spending forever going home in the freezing cold.

He was typing and sipping away for a while before he picked his fingers up to stretch. He still wasn't the fastest typer. Numbers were easier since there were only 10 keys and in a row, but the letters were harder. He'd tried online typing classes before but found it less complicated to just chicken peck. This was a summary he'd need to type up for the actual real estate agency bosses (though it would be heavily edited by Lis no doubt). As he cracked his fingers, he looked him and saw someone sitting in a table a few in front of his.

Toris was dressed differently, no apron and smoother hair this time. It looked a little damp like he'd tried to stamp out the stray cream with his hands in the sink. Instead, he had on a large coat and scarf, sleepily eyeing a to-go cup or coffee, the clear sides revealing a strong black liquid. It didn't look like much of it had been partaken of.

He eyed the counter, seeing a new cashier. It was a woman that he didn't recognize. In fact, the only real server or employee was Toris. He thought there should be more, but it seemed like the business wasn't roaring aside from the first time he had come in. But Feliks didn't think about it too hard. He'd decided that his fingers had wiggled enough and got back to typing.

About five minutes and two sentences later, though, he received an email.

> [ so did you get it? ]  
>  { get wut? }  
>  [ the suit, silly! ]  
>  { o. yeah. still rly ugly. xxx ]  
>  [ sorry again. but i want to see! show me? ]  
>  { if u see it at ur wedding, that would b enough. }  
>  [ show me right now and i'll let you pick your own shoes. ]

That was too good an offer. He snatched the suit up from its bag, unzipping it and flinching visibly at the ugly fabric, the horrible tie. The blue and green together, while the idea wasn't bad, the specific shades were disgusting when paired up. Not to mention the gold accents. He grabbed the suit bag with two fingers and slid it off as if it was trash that would leak if he was too rough with the bag.

He wasn't the best with his technology but he had learned how to use the webcam interface, if only to take pictures. The pictures of himself saved to a folder were numerous, even if not shared. He made sure to get his head in the shot too, making a disgusted face while holding up the suit. With the other hand tapping on the touchpad, the picture was taken in a quick 3, 2, 1. He smiled at his expression when the preview showed. Perfect. He looked nice in contrast to the awful, horrible suit.

Feliks stood up, holding the suit up. He couldn't imagine wearing this in February. it was only a few months away. Being late November, he almost hoped that it would come up being postponed or canceled. He wasn't happy with Lis' choice in men anyway. He wrinkled his nose both at the suit and thinking of standing there for an hour plus on the side of her fiance. The things he did for friendship.

He was slightly jarred when a sudden voice spoke up.

"That's a nice suit. I like the colours."

His eyes widened. Toris had been paying attention he guessed. But. _What did he say?_

"This? You, uh, like this?" He couldn't be more alarmed.

"Yeah." He rubbed his eyes, appearing even more tired. "I mean...it's not my business of course! But it does look like a nice suit."

Feliks couldn't even care about any stranger anxiety. He wasn't a stranger by now anyway.

"This? This is, like, one of the ugliest things I've ever seen. In my life." Shaking the suit violently in frustration at its existence and in that it seemed to have a fan.

"Oh. Really?" Toris seemed to be taken aback by the sudden forcefulness. "It looks really good to me. I mean, I don't think it'd look bad on you for any means."

"It would look bad. Bad. Like, I'm not bad by any means of course but. I can't even save... _this_."

"Well, I'm not really an expert, so maybe you're right." Toris said, taking a sip of his dark coffee. "I've never even worn a suit."

"This is about my fifth so trust me. I'm basically a suit expert. I should get a suit PhD." Feliks complimented himself.

"So what's it for? It's certainly snappy." Toris leaned on his arm and studied the suit, as if trying to find a way to dislike it.

"Oh, uhm. That woman I was with last time? She's getting married. And I kind of get to be in the wedding party." Not that he wanted to be on the groom's side.

"Oh, that's fun. Congratulations." He seemed genuinely happy, smiling softly at him. "At least it'll just be for a day, I hope? If you dislike it so much, anyway."

"Yeah. But I mean, it's still going to suck. Like, a lot." He finally sat back down and began to tuck the suit rather forcefully back into the protective bag. Truly, Feliks wasn't looking forward to this at all. February was too soon to have to get used to the idea of this horrible thing.

Toris opened his mouth but was cut off by a chirping noise. Lis was growing impatient.

> [ did you die? did the ugliness kill you? ]

Feliks sat down and answered her quickly, attaching the picture.

> { almost }

He sighed, sipping his coffee, letting a fruit chunk slip into his mouth. It was almost eleven now. It might be a good idea to call a cab soon due to noon traffic, he thought, wondering if it was a good idea. After he finished his drink maybe.

> [ he has no taste. literally. i'm sorry you have to go through this catastrophe of an outfit :( ]
> 
> { i should get a bonus for it :) }
> 
> [ don't push your luck, mister. ]

The coffee shop was literally empty aside from himself and Toris. The old man had gotten up and left, carrying his newspaper and the female cashier was talking on her phone in the back as he'd seen her get a phone call and exit into the staff room. Feliks enjoyed the atmosphere so decided he'd stay until he had to duck out with the lunch rush.

Toris, however, looked almost dead.

Feliks mulled over a certain choice he could make while he took a plastic spoon from the table's center caddy so he could more easily spoon out some fruit and cream. Scooping around he made a small throat clearing noise before speaking up.

"So, uh. On break, I guess...?"

Toris looked up from staring into his coffee wearily. It was probably cold by now, Feliks guessed. "No. I'm off."

"Oh. Can't you just, like. Leave then?"

"No. I have to wait for a ride. I have a car and everything but it's in the shop."

"That's a bummer. Really." Feliks continued to scoop, becoming intent on scooping all cream away from one little spot. "Can you call a cab?"

"Yeah. But it's too much money to have to do it all the time. My friend does it and then I give them some of our pastry to make up for it."

That reminded Feliks he too had a brownie. He broke it in half and shoved one whole chunk into his mouth. "S'good idea." He swallowed. "If I drove I'd drive people around for snacks. That'd be a great job."

"Yeah. I'm really grateful." Toris ran through a hand through his hair. "I probably would be too tired to drive if I had my car anyway."

Feliks observed him from across the tables. He indeed looked like he was ready to collapse. "Dude, I think you should hire more people."

"I wish. But I don't control that kind of thing. Morning manager means I really just...manage things in the morning as dumb as that sounds. It's more like strenuous baby sitting."

Feliks finally ate his heaping spoonful of cream and fruit chunk. "Maybe you should get a new job. Because you do really look like you got hit by some car."

"If only." It seemed like every other sentence, Toris was rubbing his face in some way. "It must be nice to have a job you really like."

"Yeah." Feliks replied sheepishly. He wasn't sure what advice to give other than to stress himself. "But still, like. If you feel like roadkill at work then you probably aren't doing a service to yourself or others? So you gotta think about stuff like that—" Toris cocked his head, curiously. "Well, not that you're. Bad. Or anything. But I mean say you just work and work and work and you accidentally fall asleep and your face goes splat into a cake or a coffee maker. And then your face is dirty and burnt and someone has face-cake or face-coffee. It's not good for anybody."

He nodded as he gave himself another spoonful of cream. A reward for being so thoughtful.

All Toris could do was laugh lightly. "That's a little ridiculous isn't it?"

"No! Nope, not at all! Look at this brownie." He held up the other half. "Imagine. I could be, like. Eating this and pull an eyelash out of my mouth or see some bloody spot. And that? Is gross. Capital g. Gross."

"If that happened I wouldn't serve it."

"But you might be so tired you wouldn't know better."

"I think I'd know if I was bleeding onto some brownies."

"That's what they say and then the health inspector comes and closes the whole thing down."

"That could not happen— Could it?"

"Yeah. Probably happened already. You should watch the news more."

Toris was just laughing tiredly, looking at his coffee and deciding to take another sip, sputtering a little. He had to wipe some off his chin which started to make Feliks laugh.

"You just got that all over your coat." He giggled, very undignified. "You look like a baby."

He looked down, kind of bewildered. Indeed, there was a bit on his coat. He dabbed at it with his fingers. "Is that funny?" Even though he was smiling at it himself.

"Yeah, definitely. Learn how to drink, okay." 

"How can you be so rude with a smile on like that?" He'd finally given up and began to dab at his coat with one of the caddy's napkins. Feliks stopped and pouted. He hadn't thought about how what he had said was rude since he was joking. Was Toris joking? He was smiling. But it was awkward all the same.

"It's not rude. It's the truth, okay? You really are like a baby. Sleepy and spilling stuff all over yourself. Ridiculous, really." He began his scooping game.

"You know, you seem in a good mood today. The other two times you could barely talk." Toris suddenly flipped the conversation. Feliks could feel his ears get  hotter.

"Uh..."

"It's okay. I'm sorry, that's probably rude coming from your baristo." He shrugged continuing to rub down his front in an almost tired motion. "But it's nice."

"I guess." He felt a little self-conscious suddenly. He thought of the things Lis had said to him the last two times. Not that he took them seriously, but this was a little strange. He didn't buy her nasty, self-indulgent fantasies but he was at least someone that Toris noticed. But that was because he kept screwing everything up. That was the real difference. The first time there'd been ordering drama. This last time he'd had ink go wrong. The awkward scenario with the emailing. In all honesty, Feliks was an extremely strong-willed person. He knew this. But he also had a lot of anxieties and perception issues underneath being a strong person. So to know that he was being paid attention to because he was a screw up was something he would laugh off out loud but still hold as something that was embarrassing on the inside. Because around friends, he could combine those two things into a much more assured emotion. But around a stranger or at least an acquaintance it just felt bad.

There was a bit of a silent spell for a little bit. It felt as if they both had come to realize it was a little awkward talking over tables like this in a dead coffee shop, an off-duty employee and a nervous customer. Toris broke the silence.

"If you're really worried about that suit, I don't think you should be. I mean, it'd look good on you so don't be too concerned. Even if you think it's ugly."

To this, though, Feliks beamed. "Oh you think?" All awkwardness was gone again. This was another strong suit: talking about his aesthetic. "I mean, I knew I wasn't the problem. But it's good someone else noticed."

"Yeah, definitely." He nodded, still tired. "Your hair suits it."

"See, maybe you have some taste after all." He nodded, finally just taking a drink from his coffee again.

Toris just shook his head, smiling almost in a disbelieving way. He lifted his head though, suddenly thinking of something. Quickly standing up and grabbing his drink, Feliks looked quizzically as he walked over to his own table. "Can I?" He motioned to the chair opposite Feliks.

He nodded, not seeing anything wrong, although something was a little squirmy inside of him. Toris sat down, placing his coffee next to Feliks'. "Thank goodness. Well, I guess the place is empty so it's not a huge deal, but..."

Toris trailed off leaning in. "So you really are a kind of math guy, right?"

Feliks nodded, perking at his field of interest. Most people would think, upon learning about his personality, that he wouldn't be the best when it came to a more scientific field. But Feliks' appreciation for numbers and things formulaic came from a disinterest in discussions. When it came to friends, he could chat all day long about anything, and he would. But in school, with these children and teachers he didn't know, english was a sore subject. Especially as he got older and had to get into conversations and explanations. He just didn't like it. But math involved no questioning for the most part. In English, they would have to talk about what this symbol meant and how they liked and understood this certain passage. He was passionate about his opinions but around others, new people, these people he didn't know, it became muddled somehow. Math, though, he would solve for x and be done. Do all the problems on the paper, turn it in, and be over it. It was an added bonus that it came more naturally to him to just follow a step instead of have to ration out something in various ways, even if that kind of thing didn't parallel in other areas of life. But basically, he was free to do his own thing without being questioned in math, and that was jut fine with him.

"Well, this is a little embarrassing. But last week there was a discrepancy in the ticket sales. And my boss isn't accusing or anything! But there's this huge difference and I went through it and everything— And I understand this is weird, me asking for a favour! But can you... Do you mind taking a look? I don't know where I messed up and it looks a little bad, you know."

"Yeah, that's not hard. As long as I don't have to know restaurant stuff." Feliks shrugged, sipping his coffee through a straw.

"Oh thank you. That's such a relief. I can get you free stuff for it and all. Unless you'd rather be paid. But I can't pay much..." Toris' face became a little less tired at that, his shoulders suddenly slumping and losing a little stiffness.

"It's okay. Like I said, I'd do stuff for snacks." But if he was paid in cash, he could spend it on clothes, knick knacks, or other useless things to fill his house. He couldn't decide before Toris got up.

"I'll get you the book and the receipt clip. Oh, but you can't lose this or my head would really be on the chopping block." He disappeared quickly, so Feliks turned his eyes back to his computer screen. He'd ignored a few muted chirps signaling emails since they were talking.

> [ wait, you're at that coffee place. you're obsessed. ]
> 
> [ is you know who there. i bet he is. ]
> 
> [ you not replying is only making me think gross things!!! ]
> 
> [ did you just go home or something? ]
> 
> [ please answer, i'm bored at the office. ]

He rolled his eyes. And he thought he was hard to handle.

> { im still here lol yes hes here but dont u think anything strange!! were just talking }
> 
> [ sounds like more than talking :) you didnt answer for like 20 mins ]
> 
> { no i think im doing more tax stuff. well, receipt stuff. i dont get restaurants }
> 
> [ you are so bad at this. tell me about your convos. ]
> 
> { well. first he said the suit looked good even tho its ugly lyke like liiiike really ugly. then we talked about his job and he like spit on his self?? i dont understand this, hes helpless. how does he breathe? and then i laughed and he laughed and the suit again and then talking about the receipts. ALSO i thought he had bad taste but it turns out he has gr8 taste bc he liked my hair and thought id look good in the suit. so he saved his soul. }
> 
> [ wait. are you kidding me. are you an idiot LOL ]
> 
> { u ask that a lot but i dont get why this time? it was nothing bad. }
> 
> [ he liked your hair? he liked how the suit would look on you? ]
> 
> { yeah, i mean. its cool, right? what a nice compliment }
> 
> [ no one says that randomly. you're a customer. he serves you coffee. ] 

He couldn't even respond, thinking and being flustered, and she'd responded again.

> [ if some guy came up to me at a restaurant and served me food and told me he liked my hair then he's either really gay or really wanting me. in this case its both. ]
> 
> { ur so horrible im closing the computer. }

Which he did. Where was Toris? He just had to grab some receipts and a book. Why was it taking so long. Lis' conversation had made him a little antsy. He really liked to think that Lis' thoughts were flights of fancy. Things like this weren't exactly his territory. He'd done some minor dating and flirtations before and she's always informed him he was an idiot and couldn't read anything and said dumb things. But in those scenarios, he was still never sure. Was he really dumb? It didn't matter much to him. He would also get mad himself so it all seemed like it was okay in the end anyway. If he didn't read something right then he would be mad about something else. It was a tit for tat.

But...was this really the scenario? If it was in a bar then it seemed like it would be easier to tell since the situation was more obvious. Someone approached him, was more direct, then there would be a rejection or confirmation. But what if Toris was just a really nice baristo? It wasn't like he liked Toris anyway. I mean, he'd admitted last time he was attractive. That was definitely true, especially after today when he'd been out of the messy apron and neater hair. But that wasn't all he cared about, even if that was a big thing. He was nice, but was it nice because he was in the hospitality industry? Was he laughing because it was polite or because what Feliks did was funny? It was so hard to tell to him.

Thinking about it, as he sipped his coffee and turned to look at the staff door, he'd been thinking about it a lot from the perspective of Toris towards him. While he thought it was silly to think about liking a server he'd met three times now, he did ponder it. He liked how Toris laughed and looked dumb while drinking and was polite. He was grateful Toris was nice even when he messed up such basic things like ordering coffee or not looking off put by a chewed pen. And traits like that were nice. But he didn't know this guy. He knew his name, he was polite, and he was a good server. The things he didn't know were really important. How old was Toris? Where was he from? Was he actually interested? Did he even like guys in the first place?

Speaking of the devil, Toris finally reappeared. The female employee followed behind still talking on her phone. It happened too, that at the same time, a lot of cars pulled into the spaces on the street. Feliks was grateful that this was about to wrap up so he didn't have to get stuck in the thick of traffic, even if it was the beginning of the madness.

"Sorry, Jen was just asking me things. I should have told her to wait." Toris approached with nothing in his hands. Feliks narrowed his eyes a little.

"Well, uh, it's your job and all but—"

"But I'm so sorry. My boss already locked up the old books. I can talk to him tomorrow. I'm so sorry if you don't want to anymore since you have to wait and come up a second and third time. I'll still give you free things! It's not like we sell everything anyway. So I mean, if you want— Oh! I have an hour break in two days if you can squeeze it in. If you want to at all." Toris seemed to be a little anxious and panicking. Feliks couldn't help but want to stop him.

"Dude, it's fine. I can come up here. It shouldn't take that long anyway." Feliks packed his laptop into his bag and readied his suit. "Uh, what time?"

"Well, we close at 5 in the evening but I have to stay a late shift and close and prep. So it's at six and I start working at 7. I'll even bring food if you want, I swear."

"Yeah, I'm not doing anything. Sounds good." He hadn't had a booked evening or night in a long time. Plus, free food.

"Here, I'll give you this. Just in case something comes up." He produced a pen from a coat pocket and snatched up a napkin, ready to jot down something. After pouring over it for a few seconds, he handed it to Feliks. It was a phone number. "Please feel free to call me. Or text. Whatever works for you."

"Oh. Thanks..." Feliks tucked it into his coat as he got up. Something about Toris seemed rush so it kind of reflected upon Feliks too. He still had to call a cab and all.

"Sorry I'm a little hurried." He breathed, almost as if he read his mind. "My ride is finally outside I see."

"Oh. Then go on, it's okay. I've got your number."

"Great. I've got yours too so I'll tell you if something changes. You really are a saint for doing this for me. Thank you so much."

"Of course!" He beamed at being called a saint.

"Alright, thank you." He nodded and turned on his heel, jogging to the door. Feliks stared after as he held the door open for a  group of customers. Feliks took his phone out of his breast pocket on his own jacket, dialing the cab service quickly. Toris was already climbing into a clunky car by the time someone picked up and he called a cab. He grabbed all of his things and moved outside himself, calling another number. Lis picked up almost immediately.

"Hey? Where are you?" Her chipper voice rang out.

"Outside the coffee shop. Waiting on a cab."

"Oh, babe, I would have picked you up. I'm off now, anyway." She seemed to be eating, judging by a bit of crunching in between some words.

"No, it's okay. I just have a question? I guess?" Feliks, running a hand through his hair, straightening it out.

"Okay, shoot." She mumbled, seeming to insert more food into her mouth.

"Okay. So. You know how you were saying if a guy gave you a compliment when he served you food that, like, meant something?"

"Mm." Chewing.

"Well. If a dude told you he was going to give you a job and then told you the job was actually eating food with him together while doing the job and also it was at, like. Six in the afternoon. And he gave you his number."

She paused chewing for a second but then continued. "Well." She commented, voice incredulous. "To me? That certainly sounds like a dinner date."


	4. 004

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this got really long, oops.
> 
> Thank you for the kudos and everything. This isn't a great fic or anything, but it's nice to write! Thank you for liking it despite its flaws; it's very nice.

Feliks was eternally grateful that this evening was a cold one but not a wet one.  
  
The only downside was that the traffic was worse since the snow was melted and a little evaporated. The driving was a little slow going because of sludge and the weariness of hydroplaning or sliding, which was also maddening. Looking out the window, the bridge he was crawling along, entering the downtown area, was depressing. The cars seemed to go at a snails pace  
  
He was in the back of a taxi, fiddling with his phone. He wasn't exactly anxious but was feeling a little awkward, though he was trying not to show it to the driver, who was frustratingly smoking out the window. Feliks' scrunched up his nose but didn't complain. He wanted to hurry up and get this started and maybe relieve the knot in his stomach.  
  
After the last time he'd visited the coffee shop, the next day Lis had come over to his house under the guise of giving him a packet from work but really just wanted more details on how his coffee shop experience.  
  
"So you're with me that this isn't normal anymore right?" She asked, sitting criss-cross on his couch.  
  
"Yeah. I think so?" He questioned, next to her trying to pay more attention to his television than anything.  
  
"This is like something you read in a crappy, self-published paperback." She mused. "Do you think he was lying? That he couldn't find the papers."  
  
"No. Maybe. I don't know. I mean. I'm not, like, fully on board with this, y'know?" He shrugged, tucking his knees to his body. "I know this is weird but I still don't know if it's weird weird or like....weird."  
  
Namely, he was aware that what Lis was saying was garnering a little more clout. But still didn't want to embarrass himself with being a little more presumptuous. He knew that this seemed a little strange in terms of a boundary between a customer and an employee. But why did Lis have to make it into something romantic? Maybe he wanted to be friends. Maybe he was trying to butter him up for semi-free accounting work.  
  
That's what he considered while he continuously pressed the off and on button on his phone. Traffic was moving slowly but he was almost there.  
  
He'd gotten dressed up— well, not more dressed up than usual. Feliks was always accustomed to looking nice. He certainly wasn't treating this like a date at all. But if it was something for business, which he was proud of that in a big way, he was going to be especially presentable. He had fine shoes on that he'd actually taken time to shine. Ironed slacks, a nice buttoned shirt, a cropped jacket. He found this wasn't such a big deal (at least in the way that he didn't like it to be a big deal) if he thought of it as simple networking. Plus free food. The true holy grail in all of this  
  
It seemed like forever before the taxi finally arrived at the front curb of the coffee shop. He quickly paid and looked at his phone before stepping out. It was ten minutes after six. Late, but he wasn't bothered. He was late to almost everything.  
  
Even looking through the windows, it was near empty, although he assumed it was because it was closed. It seemed like, again, there were only two people inside in working uniform and those two being the only people. One was a tall man, moving about a bit rapidly. Feliks had to squint through the frosty and darkened glass, but he seemed to be older, perhaps in his forties, and heavily hairy. If asked to describe him, Feliks would probably say 'an Italian-looking Santa Claus'.  
  
The other employee was Toris.  
  
He was sitting down at the back table Feliks remembered he and Lis had sat at the first time. He didn't seem to be worried or concerned that Feliks hadn't shown up yet. He was too busy going through a bunch of papers that he kept thumbing and shuffling through in his hands. There was a large paper bag on the ground next to him, but he saw the apron strings and sides so he must have been in his uniform. It didn't make sense to change it since he was going back to work to close at seven anyway. Although, if this was really something with deeper intentions, that would be a definite minus in Feliks' eyes.  
  
Feliks finally came inside before he seemed creepy, if he was even noticed, but no one seemed to be aware of his presence even with a dinging doorbell. The taller, and noticeably fat, gentleman was going in and out of the staff door almost as if he was on one of those cuckoo clocks he'd seen in relatives' houses where the wooden people came out and danced when the clock chimed. That was fine with him; he'd rather not have the unknown employee pay attention to him.  
  
But Toris also didn't seem to notice, instead continuing to focus on his papers. Feliks considered his presence and entrance being ignored to be a very rude gesture, whether it was a date or a business dinner. He had no qualms about approaching the table and just standing over Toris, pouting.  
  
"I think you're supposed to stand up and shake my hand or something?" Feliks said, a little bugged.  
  
Toris froze and looked up, smiling nervously. "Oh, Feliks. I'm sorry, I've just been going over things. You're a little late, so I just wanted to go over as much as I could."  
  
Touche. He was late, Toris was rude. But he found this behaviour ruder than his own. Especially since he still didn't stand up or shake his hand.  
  
He felt less nervous though: this was definitely nothing more than a business-oriented meeting. With free food, though. Lis could think all she wanted, she could make him think whatever she wanted, but this was certainly a strangely originated business dinner.  
  
Feliks decided just to sit down opposite his companion, eyes furrowed as Toris just turned back to his papers. They looked bigger than printed receipts, which made him curious.  
  
"So, uh. What am I doing for you exactly?" Feliks asked, adjusting his jacket and hair.  
  
"Oh, sorry. First, let me get you the food." Feliks immediately perked up. "I've got two different things since I wasn't really sure..."  
  
Toris sat his papers down and bent over the side of the table, reaching into his large paper bag. He took out a clear container that Feliks could tell was just a bunch of meat, greens, and tomatoes but also a styrofoam container that he juggled up to the table.  
  
"One of these is a chicken salad. I've got all the dressings and everything so it's whatever you'd like. And then this—" He opened the styrofoam and Feliks knew immediately which he'd choose. "It's a sort of pot pie. It's got turkey and chicken, so sorry if you're more a beef person. Oh, and if you're a vegetarian. I should have thought about—"  
  
"I'll take this." Feliks simply slid it over, without waiting to be handed anything. It was a little all over the place, some of it leaking out into the other sections of the styrofoam container which held sweetened corn and green beans with what looked like particles of fish in them. He was cold, this was warm and melty and not a salad. Perfect.  
  
"Good. If you don't mind, I'll eat while you work." He leaned back over, extracting his own bag from inside the bigger paper bag.  
  
"Yeah, that's fine." Feliks was focused on food, nonchalantly responding without thinking. He grabbed some silverware from the caddy, quickly smacking it out of its plastic wrapping. Was he supposed to be doing something? All he could think of doing was eating. That's what he was here to do right? The first bite was delicious and warm. Doing receipt auditing was the furthest thing from his mind.  
  
"I'm glad you like it. I was a little worried, but I know this is good." Feliks didn't mind that he was obviously enjoying himself. Who wouldn't?  
  
"Yeah. It's real great." Pointing at his food with his fork while he was taking a chewing break. "D'you get this from around here because let me tell you. Flawless. I'm going next time I'm downtown."  
  
"Sort of. I made it in the kitchen."  
  
"For real? You should just sell these upfront. You'd make a killing." Feliks tucked back in. He was hunting for more tender meat to shove into his mouth. "Extra cash, y'know?"  
  
"Thank you. I've heard things like that before, but it's always nice." Toris sheepishly stopped looking at Feliks and instead began to open his own lunch bag. "It's kind of a natural talent but I've had a lot of practice."  
  
"Why don't you just make food instead of coffee? You aren't that happy here, right?"  
  
"No, it's not that." Toris paused, a hushed voice. He looked around quickly. Oops. Feliks forgot there was another employee here. "Did you meet my boss?"  
  
"Oh. No." He hoped he wouldn't.  
  
"It's okay. He's a little spacey. So he probably won't be bothering us much." Toris turned around, smiling. "But, really, I like working. Things around here are just a little off kilter."  
  
"You should really just look around for another job. Maybe a line cook. Or something bigger— Do you make stuff other than this?"  
  
"Yes. A lot of things really..."  
  
"See, just brand yourself based on that. And you could probably just work anywhere." Feliks felt extremely comfortable. Small talk that he could get involved with easily, good food, a simple atmosphere. Comfortable.  
  
"It's really more complicated than that I think."  
  
"Not really. Just quit, get a new job. Like, really simple." Feliks said in between bites of food.  
  
"Uh-huh..." Toris seemed to have given up on convincing Feliks his idea was anything more than absolute. "So, should we get started?"  
  
Feliks glanced up at the wall clock across the large room. Twenty after. Fine. He could multitask (badly).  
  
"Okay. Just hand me whatever." He didn't bring his bag or laptop, but this wasn't something as big as a real estate agency with commissions and stocks and large numbers. A non-franchise coffee shop was pen and paper work. Still eating, he pulled a pen from his slacks pocket, scooting his food over so he could look at the papers.  
  
"Here," Toris gathered the papers neatly and passed them over. "They're all photocopies so you can write on them. It's all of the pulled receipts from the time period. The ones from my time slots are highlighted. I really can't find the problem! Also, the last two are a copy of the menu. You can check for inconsistencies."  
  
Feliks pulled those two out and sat them up against the caddy for easy reference and quietly tucked into the work. They were indeed all photocopies, streams of receipts put side by side on some pages. Toris had also taken the time to number each page. The date on the very top corner of the receipts were either highlighted or not, marking which were his and which were others.  
  
Toris pulled out two round wrapped items from his bag, eating while Feliks worked as promised. Unwrapping them, they appeared to be bought hamburgers. Feliks was confused as to why he didn't just eat something he made himself. He was also concerned when Toris also produced various sauce packets and proceeded to dump the entirety of them on his first hamburger. His stomach turned looking and focused on the papers, starting to take notes. The mixing colours of two kinds of mustard, relish, hot and regular ketchup, mayonnaise and several other things he couldn't identify made him queasy.  
  
Though he wasn't concerned for very long. It wasn't three minutes before he found the underlying reason for everything being wrong.  
  
"For some reason, your uh. Some of these prices are off? But it's not on the highlighted ones. The non-yellow ones."  
  
Feliks turned one of the papers around, showing the end of one receipt and the entirety of another. It wasn't highlighted but he happened to notice it still showed Toris' cash register ID number under the place where the register operators identification was stored. The time was also weird, pulled either at an extremely early hour or a very very late one. Also, all the inserted prices were in various stages of being too expensive. Some were two dollars off, some were five.  
  
"It looks like you got a weird register thing going on." He wasn't really sure how to fully work a cash register or what all they could and couldn't do. "And so it really messed up a whole bunch of stuff. So nothing big, really."  
  
Toris squinted, picking up the receipt in question. "There's more like this?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. I marked some..." Feliks pulled out some from the stack he'd dog eared, all with the receipts that had strange outputs he'd circled when compared to the menu. He handed them over, glad he finished early so he could eat.  
  
Toris didn't seem to be as happy. His brow was furrowed. Feliks noted he already had early wrinkles forming. They couldn't be much different in age. Or maybe Toris was really just some young teenager with an older face if he had wrinkles like that.  
  
"This is troublesome. I was never here for any of these...I didn't even think to look at these since they're sorted by timecode." He rubbed his face with his hand over and over. "Do you mind if I get up for a second? I think Roc— my boss should see this."  
  
"Sure. Whatever." Feliks was really focused on his food. He found the problem. He deserved an award. That was the deal right?  
  
Toris nodded and got up quickly. The man had disappeared somewhere, which he assumed was into the staff room. Toris entered briskly, almost jogging. Feliks didn't see the problem now. He'd solved it. What was there to keep stressing over?  
  
While he was eating, though, he was glad and felt a little silly for getting so worried and hyped up by what Lis had started to convince him of. There wasn't much point to it, thinking about it. Why was this ever a problem? He knew Lis was such a sensationalist. Getting worked up just seemed so stupid in retrospect, especially since he was originally adamant about it not being a big deal.  
  
He also thought, if it really was something deeper, he might have just went along with it with food like this. Feliks had gone through the pot pie and sides quickly now that there was truly no distraction. His mind's gears spinning, he eyed the chicken salad. He wasn't impressed with a salad. But he was sure there were various nice dressings in the big bag below him and that chicken... Well if it was the same as the pot pie chicken, then it would be phenomenal.  
  
Toris arrived back at the table with his boss in tow and came back to Feliks with a half eaten chicken salad covered in Caesar dressing. The tall and hairy man spoke first.  
  
"Are you Felix?" Mispronouncing Feliks' name with a thick accent. "I'm so happy. So so happy. Thank you."  
  
Feliks' hands were taken up, kissed gently and put back on the table. "You've not only helped him, but also me. Also Panna Cotta. So thank you." He felt frozen with the sudden touching, but also beaming with the praise. It was just one man so it wasn't a big deal. But he was also confused.  
  
"Panna Cotta? Oh, is that that." Feliks turned to Toris. "Is that that chick that was here last time? A coffee...?"  
  
Toris blinked at him while the tall man just looked confused. "Are you—?"  
  
The tall man just laughed, possibly more than necessary. "It's good, it's good. I'll get you coffee. You have food, but you don't have coffee. You too, T. You too."  
  
He pat Feliks' hands and slapped Toris roughly on the back which seemed to almost knock the wind out of him. Toris sat down while his boss left and hustled off to the staff room again.  
  
Toris sighed as soon as he sat down. "Panna Cotta is the name of this place. The shop that you're in right now."  
  
Ah.  
  
In all honesty, every time he'd come in, it didn't seem like he ever paid attention to the name. He couldn't remember the name of the tailor he went to, he didn't have any need to remember the name. The first time, his directions to get there were from Lis in the form of 'Oh, uhm. What's it called. It's on the corner, it's red. It's near that one Safeway. The one near the subway. You know'. The second time, he'd just gone on instinct. The third time, the same. They didn't have a lot of branding around. Not on the plastic cups, or the walls. The walls were pretty bare. Looking around quickly, with his eyes, it just had a picture or two stuck here or there on stucco walls. It had a sort of Italian feel, but he couldn't even recall hearing the name, seeing it. So he decided it wasn't his fault.  
  
"You should really put that in more places. Like, Starbucks has those cups with the name and everything. The cute little mermaid girl. You should tell him to get something like that."  
  
"Sure, sure." Toris said tiredly, obviously not impressed by how Feliks had been there four times and didn't know what the name was and admitted as such, though inadvertently, in front of his boss.  
  
"So what's the deal with the receipts? It's fixed right?" Feliks continued to eat his hard earned chicken.  
  
"Well." Toris inhaled, scratching into his small ponytail. "I think that woman you mentioned earlier has been stealing. In my name."  
  
Feliks wasn't expecting that. "Get out! Oh my gosh, that's crazy? Something like that should go on the news!"  
  
"Yes, it's. Uh. Well it's easy to get in and she has the key and everything. And if she just made a fake purchase with additional prices, it's strange looking but it's not something you look for much. At least I didn't. Maybe I really am just too tired for this...Rocco certainly wouldn't notice on his own. I'm surprised he noticed our totals were off."  
  
He rubbed his eyes as if to emphasize. "But yeah. She and I are the only ones with keys besides the owner. And he knows I have to be home by a certain time so the late ones can't be me. It's kind of complex but. It's difficult."  
  
Feliks understood. He frowned, feeling sympathetic.  
  
"Well. You noticed. Well, more like I noticed. But it's fixed now. So fire her and you're all clean. That's a good thing, right? Like, you're off the hook and everything?"  
  
"Yeah." Toris nodded. "Thank you. We're not one-hundred percent sure, so maybe I'm rude being accusatory." There was another pause. "No. That's really what it must be. So it's completely aggravating and to do it under my name..."  
  
Toris truly looked too tired to be angry, just a little sad. It felt like most of the evening, Toris had his hands on his face, rubbing it or holding it up in some way or another, as he now rubbed his forehead.  
  
"I really have to thank you, though. It's true. I'm really scattered recently and Rocco. Well, he's just a bit scattered in general. So she might have just robbed everyone blind and gotten away with it if you hadn't caught that. Maybe we should hire an accountant."  
  
Feliks finished his salad with a happy smile, both because of the food and the glowing praise. "Thanks! I feel kind of like a super sleuth or something. You can just call me anytime or whatever. As long as food comes with it."  
  
"You ate a lot, honestly. I don't know if I made the right choice paying you with food. Money might be cheaper." Toris was trying to be funny, and Feliks did know when he was being teased.  
  
"Either way, it's still a good deal. I'm a super sleuth, I deserve super food or super cash."  
  
"I guess that's right. I'm glad you like it. Mostly I just feed my family with it so I always wonder if it's really good or they just say it to save my feelings."  
  
"Well you've got taste buds, right? Can't you taste it?"  
  
"I guess I've just got a bit of modesty. Or something." He seemed a little flushed. He picked up his hamburger again, only a few bites gone, and continued eating. A strange expression was on his face, although he seemed a little shy.

"Don't. Be proud of yourself." Feliks could understand being shy, but he wasn't exactly a modest person. He knew he was good at quite a number of things and a pretty great and interesting person, even if he didn't want to share it with strangers. But if it was ever brought up, he was the first to cosign the comments. "It's really good."

"I'll try." Feliks was definitely not modest when it came to giving life advice even if he had no real experience in what he was talking about.

"So, uh." Feliks was almost done with his second dinner. "You have a family?"

"Of course." Toris replied, plainly. Feliks knew it was sort of dumb, but asked anyway. He was a little curious and wasn't done with his salad.

Toris himself was chewing before he really responded. "I have a lot of extended family, mostly. I'm not even sure how they're really related, sometimes."

"Oh. That's interesting, I guess. I've just got parents and grandparents."

"Well, that's nice of course. I have a father and that's about all I know when it comes to close family. Most of my closer family are still overseas. I only have a few old photos."

"Oh, are you, like, first or second generation?" Toris' name and a slight accent he had when he said certain words was a big tip off earlier but it was very obvious Toris was close to being foreign in some way or another.

"First. My father and mother were born in the Soviet Union and came to America when it was disbanded."

"Where are you even from anyway?" Feliks couldn't put his finger on where. "I mean, America and whatever but. Where's your dad from I guess?"

"Lithuania. Probably someplace you've never heard of." Toris waved it off, continuing to eat his hamburger which began to drip all over the paper bag flattened beneath it. He still had another. Toris seemed to be a slow eater.

"I'm not an idiot, I've heard of it before." He rolled his eyes. "You aren't the only European alive, you know."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply or anything." Toris waved his hands apologetically, one still holding food. "I guess I'm just used to people being a little clueless."

"I'm not! I'm—" He had to think for a second. His mother was American-born, first generation and his father was actually born in Poland. "I guess I'm a one-and-a-half generation? I don't know if those count."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"My mom was born here but still 100% Polish and my dad was born there and then came here when he was  _reeeeeally_  young. But it's really cool because we still do traditional stuff? My dad made a lot of money as a lawyer here so he brought my Baba and grandad over so we used to visit them a lot. We'd eat traditional food and Baba had a lot of antiques and personal stuff from back in the day and it's all really cool. So cool. Does your dad have stuff like that? I really admire that kind of old world stuff, y'know?"

Toris seemed taken aback that Feliks just started going off. "A little bit? He doesn't have a lot. No one really had a lot after or during the USSR. So a lot of the antiques and mementos are either lost or kept with older family members back in Lithuania."

"That really sucks, man. I mean, my grandparents and parents probably had to deal with that kind of stuff. No one really talks about it. Maybe they weren't since they were pretty well off." Feliks looked sad for him. "But, hey, does that mean you can cook traditional food? Like, you're good at that kind of thing, so can you make stuff like that?"

"Oh, yeah, that I can do." He nodded, now almost done with his hamburger. It was barely recognizable as one, though, as it was mostly just a bun soaked with mayonnaise, ketchup, and relish.

"You should have made that instead of this salad." Feliks said, even as he finished the last lettuce bit. "That would have been way more super."

"Had I know you were interested in that, I would have." Toris laughed. "Although the food is a little different where you and I are from, you know?"

"Hmm." Feliks leaned back. "Do you guys have. Dumplings?" He wasn't sure if he should use 'pierogi' in case he didn't recognize it.

"Yes, of course. I think it's my turn to say I'm not an idiot." Toris fired back, though playfully. "I can make a lot of dumplings. European, Asian, a more Western style. I can make a pierogi."

"That's so cool. You should make me some. I can try and make some and they kind of fall apart. Not that they aren't still really great tasting, but it's best if they stick together you know? But I still think they're super. I'd just like to compare the two, that's all."

"Alright. I'll make some for you and you can judge me on how culturally accurate they are." Toris nodded, finished with his last unintelligible piece of hamburger.

"Good. They better be 100%. Or it's racist or something."

"Polish isn't a race, I'm pretty sure. It's a nationality."

"Then you'll be a nationality-ist." This was a word to him and if it wasn't to others, he decided it needed to be one.

"Fine, fine. I don't want to be a nationality-ist." Toris chuckled. While Feliks didn't have any vested interest in Toris, he knew two things. One, he liked when people laughed at his jokes and quips. It made him feel good and gave him a huge ego boost. Two, Toris seemed like he was down. A few days ago he was tired and down looking. Today he got some upsetting news and wasn't exactly happy afterwards. He continued to express a bit of interest in being a little unhappy with his job. So even a little laugh seemed like a nice thing to Feliks. 

If he allowed himself to think it, too, Toris also had a nice smile.

"So, err." Toris began, "You don't have to stick around if you don't want to."

Feliks looked at the clock. It was six-thirty. Toris had thirty minutes left on break. It didn't seem like such a bad thing to stick around. Also, wasn't there something else.

"No, it's cool. Plus, that tall guy said we were getting coffee. And I haven't gotten it yet." He was indeed thirsty.

"I'm sorry to tell you but I really don't think you'll get those. Rocco really is spacey. Between you and I, he probably shouldn't be running a business." Toris sighed, standing up with a napkin he'd grabbed. He rubbed his hands, removing leftover residue from various sauces. Feliks realized that a few sauce drips had gotten onto Toris' apron too. "But I'll make you some."

"Thanks." He was sure that it would be more polite to say 'Don't bother.' but he was thirsty. And Toris was offering. So why not.

"What kind. The usual? I can make you a colder dessert coffee."

"Sounds good to me, honestly. Just make sure it's yummy." Feliks crossed his arms, already impatient. "And that the ice doesn't melt." Though it was cold outside, the pot pie had warmed him and something hot didn't seem thirst quenching.

"Fine, fine." Toris tossed his napkin onto the table. "Coming right up, sir."

While he disappeared, Feliks at least tidied up his space a little. He put his fork in the salad container, sitting it on top of his closed styrofoam box. He was definitely full after two entrees and sides. He wasn't a horrible cook but it seemed like he was much better at lazy, microwaved foods. Even when it came to pierogi, he had gotten accustomed to eating them from the box instead of making them from scratch or getting some from his Baba. Homemade food was especially delicious. Also, while he wasn't the most perceptive, he did notice things about food. There was something charming about how Feliks was provided homemade meals and Toris was eating something store bought. He had to wonder why.

He thought about a scenario where Toris messed up the rest of his pot pie and chicken and could serve Feliks what he had and had to buy something for himself. How considerate and Toris seemed like he was a considerate man. Maybe he just really liked the taste of fast food and thought Feliks might be watching his weight. Considerate but also a little rude, depending on what the implication of that was. Maybe he originally was going to give that second burger to Feliks but wanted to impress him so he made some homemade things. Also considerate and very cute.

If he was thinking like Lis, anyway. Which he wasn't.

Toris arrived quickly; it wasn't yet six thirty-five when he came back to the table holding two nearly-identical plastic coffee cups. He dropped a lighter one off in front of Feliks and sat down with his own. They were both lovely-looking. They were swirled with cream as Feliks could see through the plastic, and also topped with a dollop and drizzled with caramel. Toris' was a little darker and also covered in something else.

"So what are these?" Feliks asked, inspecting his very quickly before clasping onto the straw and taking a long drink.

"They're just frappuccinos. Sort of. They're modified a bit. Yours has added sweet cream and mine has dark chocolate and salt."

"Salt? It's supposed to be sweet, you know."

"Yeah. I'm not really into big sweet flavours. So the salt kind of tones it down."

"Weird." Feliks took a long and loud sip. "The whole point is to be sweet."

"Do you want to taste? It's not that bad. Still sweet!"

"I don't know. Salt is weird in coffee."

"It's just on the top with the caramel, it hasn't gotten into it yet. You've never had salted caramel?"

"No."

Toris sat his drink down. "You can have a taste. I bet you'd like it!"

Feliks didn't need to be invited again. He grabbed the drink and didn't hesitate to take a long drag from the straw. He immediately wondered if he should trust someone who put relish and probably alien liquids on a hamburger when it cames to how things tasted. Feliks did taste a little of the salty caramel from the straw and dark chocolate, but it wasn't overwhelming and tasted alright. He prefered his own but this wasn't bad.

"Pretty good. Mine's better, though." Almost as if he'd made his own himself.

Toris stared at his snatched drink, then at Feliks. Maybe that wasn't exactly normal. But Feliks didn't want salt on his straw if it was nasty. It would make his own drink salty and he didn't want that. There's no big deal in a little straw sharing. Toris offered anyway.

Toris shakily took back his drink, hesitating before taking a sip again.

"I don't have cooties, what's your problem?" Feliks laughed loudly.

"I didn't think something like that! I'm not in second grade!" Toris defended his hesitation, even taking another more forceful and longer sip.

Feliks just continued to laugh. "You've got to chill out, Toris. Calm down, I'm joking. Don't have a cow."

"I know. But I didn't want you to think something weird."

"It's okay. I already think you're weird." Feliks reassured him, said in a joking way but telling the truth.

"I'm weird? Aren't you a bit weird?"

"Me? Uhm, no? I'm perfectly fine?" Feliks was taken aback. The weird guy shouldn't be saying he's weird.

"Are you sure? You've never had a salted caramel."

"Because I'm not weird. That's a weird person food. It's probably a weird person food group."

Toris sat there and stared at him for a little bit before leaning back over and rifling in his big bag. Feliks leaned as well to see what he was doing but Toris was pretty fast. He had a small packet in his hand that was open and poured onto Feliks' drink.

He let out a high pitched shriek. "What did you just do!?"

Toris wiggled a salt packet at him. "It's just a little bit. Salted caramel. Now we're both weird."

Feliks stared at the small pile of salt on the top of his drink, a third gone by now. This was unacceptable. Completely. Also a bit too forward from what he expected of Toris so far. But there was one thing he was certain of: the best way to fight fire is with fire.

Luckily Toris had left his hamburger topping remnants on the table. Feliks snatched one at random and quickly squeezed the leftover contents onto Toris' drink. It was a gloopy trickle of relish, swirled over the top of the cream. Toris looked horrified.

"Are you kidding? That's relish! Salt and caramel go together, not pickles and cream!"

"You snooze you lose." Using the phrase a little incorrectly in his victorious haze. "I totally got you! You put something in mine and I put something in yours."

Toris closed his gaping mouth, realizing that playing with fire burns you. "You know. I like relish. It's probably good. That's the lesson here: try new combinations and you'll probably like them. Like salt and caramel."

He grabbed his drink, staring at the green drizzle on his coffee. He stirred it hesitantly and slowly before he took the straw out and licked the combination. Toris tried his damnedest but couldn't keep a straight face for long. Choking, he grabbed a napkin and covered his mouth with it, spitting out the horrible mixture.

Feliks erupted into giggles.

"I can't believe it! You actually ate it! Are you a nut or what? Oh my gosh I can't believe you just totally ate that."

"I didn't." Toris grimaced, removing his face from the napkin. "I couldn't swallow a bit of that."

"You look like you've got the flu. Oh my gosh, you've got to see yourself. You look green. I can't tell your eyes and your face apart."

"God, why did you do that." Toris lamented, trying to subtly rub at his tongue.

"I totally win this round. Me, one. You, zero." He happily swirled around his coffee, letting the salt sink in. At least this was weird and a little tasty, not weird and completely horrid.

"This is some kind of sick competition?" Toris sputtered, still dabbing at his mouth. "I forfeit, I don't think my stomach can take that much."

With a pained expression, he reached around in his apron to produce a small roll of foil-wrapped something or other. Pulling open the little folded end, they appeared to be some kind of tablet. He took one of the rose-coloured disks and chewed, appreciating the taste visibly. Anything was better than that relish mess.

"Is that a mint? Can I have one?" Feliks asked, another thing that would probably be more polite left unsaid.

"Ah, no they're They're antacids. I have a lot of stomach problems."

"Your burger toppings say otherwise." Feliks mused, leaning back on the table.

"I enjoy foods like that." Toris seemed a little embarrassed to have his strange tastes be noticed. "It's a small price to pay, I guess."

"I get it. It's like if you eat a lot of ice cream you'll probably get a stomach ache but you keep eating just because it's max delicious."

"Yeah, sort of." He finally swallowed. "It's more than food, but food kind of agitates it."

"What else is up? You should get one of those...." Feliks tried to think of what he was trying to say. The things Lis would cry and moan and rub all over herself when she was having that time of the month. "You fill it up with water and it's warm. Like a water balloon."

"No, it's not like that. I get ulcers sometimes. And I have a thin stomach lining."

"Oh, that's kinda gross. If my stomach was all messed up, I don't know if I could deal with that all the time." He was a man that liked his food.

"Yes, it's a bit of a pain. But I manage." He then began to scoop off the cream from his coffee, spreading out a napkin to put it on. Feliks giggled again.

"You really tried that. You put that stuff in your mouth."

"I have to watch my food around you." Toris smiled, though still with tired corners.

"You started it! It's not my fault."

"True. But you don't pull any punches!"

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"I guess. It can be a really great trait."

Feliks was beaming. He loved being complimented. "Good. I think so too."

They both drank for a little bit. There were fifteen minutes before it was time for Toris to go back to work. Feliks couldn't see what more could be done since the place was empty, pretty clean. It was probably work in the back, prepping whatever you needed to prepare for coffee. He was a little curious but also didn't want to get dirty or involved in work. His own was enough.

There was also something else he wanted to be nosy about.

"So when you go and are done here and everything, do you go back to your family, yeah? I think that's what you were kind of talking about earlier."

"Oh, yes. It should really just be an aunt and her children. Well, she's not really an aunt. But close. I guess."

"Oh, kids? I would hate to live with kids."

Toris got a strange look on his face. "Well, they aren't exactly children in the young sense. They're teenagers. One's almost grown. But I guess they always seem younger since I've been taken care of them for quite a while."

"You take care of them?" Said incredulously. It was one thing to live with a sister or brother but to actually take care of kids. That was most definitely not for him.

"A bit. I take care of a lot of things, to tell you the truth. But you aren't interested in all that I'm sure." Toris shook his head, politely.

Feliks sipped his drink for a bit, eyeing Toris, a little shyly. "You gotta fill up fifteen minutes somehow."

"Oh..." Toris was sheepish again. "Well, I guess I've just worked most of my life so it's a little natural to take care of things like that. I think that's why I try to do so much here too. Do you ever feel like that? That you just have to take care of something even though it doesn't really concern you?"

Toris was looking serious, staring directly at Feliks. He could feel a look of confused disgust on his face.

"I, uh, don't think so." He had trouble taking care of what he should in the first place, let alone anyone else's extra problems.

"Oh, well maybe you won't get it, then. But it feels like that. I guess that's a little motherly. But I don't mind that kind of thing."

Feliks took a beat to notice something he felt like he should have noticed a while ago. Now, Feliks was a feminine looking guy. He's sure he could have changed things about himself physically to make that less apparent. But anytime he tried, he felt awkward. He felt he looked awkward. It was easier somehow to stay kempt and straightened instead of feeling strange and looking less than sensational.

But he didn't act feminine. He had a very brash personality except upon first glance. Maybe when you were a new person in his world, you saw a shrinking violet, someone who was maidenly inside and out. But observing him with friends and family, he was loud and boisterous. Rambunctious. He was interesting in more dirtying hobbies. He'd won some equestrian trials in the summer between middle and high school. He liked to go lizard hunting when he was a child, playing and rolling around. His personality wasn't exactly the feminine, soft thing his face and wardrobe were.

Toris, however, had extremely feminine mannerisms. He wasn't physically feminine, he could tell. He had hands that were a bit hardened, he wasn't huge but still filled out his shirt. But he crossed his legs under the table. He set his things down daintily. He spoke using polite but still familiar languages and tones. He seemed to be more reserved in his conversation than Feliks at a base level. He felt like if he had a teacup and plate he'd cushion it with his finger and extend a pinkie. There was just something more demure about him. So yeah. He did seem a bit motherly, even if he had a masculine outside.

His face wasn't exceptionally masculine, though. He could see it was a bit ambiguous. He had a male nose but a softer chin and cheekbones. He had soft eyes even though they were dark but also a forehead with the ghosts of wrinkles.

"Is there...?" Toris began. Feliks blinked and looked at him. He held a napkin up, moving it around his face, assuming Feliks was staring at a smudge of coffee or burger topping. Feliks felt his ears go a bit red.

"Uh, yeah! Right. Here." He slid a finger down his cheek to mimic where Toris should rub.

In reality, there was nothing there. Toris wiped at his face, looking at the napkin. He seemed confused when nothing showed up on the napkin. "Hope I got it." Feliks nodded enthusiastically. A good save, he thought, on his part.

"But as I was saying. I mean, I guess I would like to live on my own again someday but for now, this is nice in its own way."

"You used to live alone? Why don't you just do that now then. I wouldn't want to stop."

"Well, for a while we ran out of money to stay in the housing we were in. So we all sort of had to make due. My father stayed with another family that lived in the complex, but I didn't want to impose on other people who were also impoverished. So I stayed with the person I was sort of. Uhm.  _With_  at the time. They had the resources and I bought my own food."

"Living with a roommate sounds kind of crumby. I'm glad I've always had my own place." His eighteenth birthday present had been a house, paid for completely. Living with someone had never been an issue.

"Yeah. I was sixteen and it was a little strange living with someone else especially since they also had a parent they were living with. But they lived comfortably. It was a little complicated. Especially since we weren't— We weren't dating but we were...inclined towards each other? I guess? It really was a strange scenario."

That's what he meant by 'with'. Especially by the way he seemed quite flustered. "It sounds it. But it must also be fun to stay with someone you're kind of with, right? Exciting and everything?" He had never gotten to any stage of a relationship where he was anywhere near living with someone. But the way movies and television talked about that scenario, it had to be fun.

"Not really. But their mother wasn't aware we were dating at all. So it was like we weren't really together after all. Which was why we broke up, I suppose."

Feliks didn't really know what he could contribute. He was fine with Toris talking while they both finished their coffee, but this was getting a little weird. Somehow, though, something that was on his mind the other day popped back up.

"It has to be kind of weird living with your 'boyfriend'." Feliks used air quotes, "Especially if you're a girl, right? I mean, with things like shotgun weddings and things like that."

Truthfully, he was probing to see how straight Toris was. Just to see. This could put a nail in Lis' imagination's coffin or just be an interesting fact otherwise. Either way, he wanted to confirm this.

"It wasn't like that." Toris got a bit nervous, tapping the sides of his plastic coffee cup. "I. Well, I see what you mean of course! But I don't think that was the concern. Since, uh, you see..." He swallowed. "It wasn't necessarily a woman."

Feliks was a little reactionary in spite of himself, although not a sense of shock or disbelief. More so a bit of a flatline.

"You didn't have to choke that out, you know." Feliks leaned on his arm.

"I'm sorry, I just don't talk about things like that often. And I'm around a lot of traditional people so I'm not always sure how people will react."

"Uhm. I don't think anything of that kind of stuff, so don't worry." Feliks nodded, proud to be a shoulder to cry on.

"Well, I figured you were gay from first glance, but figured it would be rude to assume."

Feliks frowned. "You say some strange stuff sometimes."

"Sorry, that's a bit rude." Toris was obviously in a stage of flustered stupidity. Although Feliks was almost certain this kind of guy just liked to put a foot in his mouth.

Although, Feliks was always surprised by how many people seemed to know he was gay. He didn't squirm about being gay at all, but had always told people and received a sounding "Oh, I know." It kind of took a bit of the special feeling from telling it.

"Whatever. It's cool. It's not a state secret." Feliks was pretty apathetic to the whole thing. His parents didn't care much, his grandparents expressed a little disappointment but didn't bring it up. Putting it bluntly, he wasn't the kind of rainbow-flag toting gay guy. Although, if it would get him something, he was completely open to playing the "gay card".

"Okay, sorry again." Toris coughed. "But yeah. It was just a little awkward. I was always so nervous being there under the guise of being just friends when it was a little more. So it was straining...but I'm sure this is oversharing, I'm sorry."

"It's cool. Like I said, time's gotta pass anyway."

"And like I said, you don't have to stick around the whole time."

Feliks mused over this. There were less than ten minutes until seven. So it didn't seem like a bad thing to sit there for the rest of that time.

"I stayed here this long. So might as well stay until seven."

"If you're okay with it, then." Toris adjusted himself in the seat, uncrossing and re-crossing his legs. "You can talk about you if you'd like. I mean, I've just been gabbing about myself."

He immediately began. "Well, I just turned twenty not long ago. I own my house and I like cool things like good T.V. shows, good food, red and pink. Oh and green. Also white. I'm a Scorpio, I can horseback ride. I've known my best friend since I was four. Oh, and I don't have any pets. I know I can have a pet, but it's hard to find a good one you know? Sometimes I wonder if I should get something cool like an iguana. I wish it was legal to own some really cool animals like a bear or a zebra. I can fit them in my backyard so I'm not sure why I can't just have one? But that's the law for you. It's really stupid. I also get my hair cut once every two weeks. I like going to the salon I use. Especially the shampoos. Do you ever get your hair cut? It looks like you need it."

Toris seemed shocked that Feliks could just gush all that disjointed mess out. "I cut my own hair. Or get my aunt to do it."

"No kidding, honestly. I'll give you my salon's card. You could totally use a salt scrub and a split-end trim."

"Thank you..." He trailed off as Feliks removed his phone to extract a business card from behind the case.

"Really, you should. It's not super expensive." He felt pretty proud that he'd spent a majority of his evening helping his companion.

"I'll try. My hair isn't a huge concern of mine." He reached up and removed the hair tie, running a hand through it. "I'm sure it looks worse too since I've been working and it gets pretty, err. Gross."

"It's a nice length. But it needs a trim. Trust me, you'd look really good."

"Thank you." Toris flushed a bit. "I guess I just don't think about things like that often."

"If you just put in a little effort, you'd look really good. New pants, a haircut...yeah, you'd look great! Trust me, I'm practically an expert." Feliks did think he had a pretty good eye for things like this. He was a good self stylist and also pretty decent and thinking about what would look good on other people. "You could even keep your little ponytail. It's cute in a way."

Something made him assuredly more comfortable. He thought the fact he was so nervous earlier was absolutely ridiculous now. Something was nice about Toris. He was easy to be around. It was just nice. Toris bought into his jokes, his advice, his mannerisms. Toris was nice, he was soft, he was very considerate of Feliks. These were all great things. It usually took longer for him to feel comfortable around someone at this level. But it just felt really natural.

"Is it? It's just to keep it out of the way." He shook his hair out so it was laying naturally.

"Yeah. It'd just look nicer trimmed and neat. You probably need some cholesterol too."

"Cholesterol?"

"It looks like lard. They rub it on your hair and it feels. Really. Gross. But then it makes your hair soft when you leave it in."

"This seems extravagant for only hair." He wasn't sure this was a road he wanted to go down.

"I will literally take you. I'll even be the best guy and pay for it. A bit of it anyway."

"Really? I mean, in that case... It seems really important!"

"It's definitely important. And I don't take just anybody to get their hair done, so you should be extra grateful. This is, like, a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"If you say so." Toris laughed. "I'm off next week. If you really want to, I don't mind."

"Okay, we're totally going to do it." Feliks slapped his hand on the table. "It is  _soooo_  settled."

"Fine, fine. Just text me the address." Toris offered. It did just occur to Feliks that he could indeed casually text Toris if he wanted to. That was a big mistake on Toris' part.

"You've so got it."

Toris stood up, collecting his trash and paper bag. "Well, it's almost seven. So I've got to get back to work. And I guess see what Rocco did instead of make your coffee."

Feliks blinked at the clock. Or, right. The last time he checked it was about 6:52 and that was five minutes ago. So of course it was time to leave. "Oh right. Oops. Guess the last couple minutes got away."

"Yeah," Toris replied. "Do you need to call a cab? You can wait inside. It looks a bit cold out there."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll call and everything." Feliks said, taking out his phone again.

"You can text me when you get home. The roads looked bad and the radio says there's been some accidents. It'd just make me feel a little better."

"That's so nice of you. You're a regular gentleman, really." Feliks stood up, grabbing his own things and trash. "It's kind of corny but it suits you."

"I think I'll just take the compliment." Toris laughed awkwardly. "I'll see you next week?"

"Yeah, of course." Feliks smiled.

"Oh, and thank you again for all you did. It was really, really kind of you."

"Dude, stop, that's like the fourth time."

"Sorry, sorry. I'll get going then."

Toris left, going off into the staff room but not before waving goodbye. Feliks waved as well, dialing the taxi service after he left. It wasn't very long before one arrived, probably waiting in a nearby alleyway.

It didn't seem like that long ago that he'd gotten out of the first taxi. Getting into the taxi now, he felt very contented.

On his way home, Feliks sent Toris a text message: "thx for the food 2 lol \\(^o^)/".

Yes, he felt very content indeed.


	5. 005

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out super long, I'm sorry...............hopefully you like it though.
> 
> Thank you for 30 kudos! The ending of this one is a little rough so I might edit it and dress it up one day. But for now, I want to work on Chapter 6 and get this one out to you.

Suddenly, it was almost the middle of December. The snow continued to come down in droves, and wasn't letting up. The gated suburb that Feliks lived in was practically a winter wonderland. The tall and proud houses were white with snow and frost with peaked and cracking lawns. Some were neat and tidy with clean driveways with snow brushed off into the very gutters of the street.

Feliks' yard was just a snowpile. There was no clean driveway since he didn't use his driveway much anyway. He didn't see a point to cleaning up his yard since snow would just keep falling and he would just freeze himself to death or ruin a good pair of snow boots (which defeated the point of owning snow boots for practical reasons but were still fashionable and fresh to him anyway). He'd received a message or eight from the neighbourhood committee but he'd just thrown them in the trash. They were probably just fines and he'd just eventually pay them when he felt like it.

At least that's what he wanted to do until a strange woman showed up on his porch a little after one in the afternoon one day.

He answered the door after she'd knocked for a while, which looking at her face from the peephole was making her very angry. The scowl on her lipstick-lined mouth melted away when he answered the door, giving way for a bright and sugary smile.

"Hello, is this mister...mister Felix?" She finally said. She consulted a clipboard in her hand, not going to attempt his last name and still mispronouncing his first. "That's the correct way to say that, yes?"

"No?" He answered, groggy even at one in the afternoon. The perks of working mostly from your home were a lot of naps. "Can I, uh. Help you?"

"Yes, I'm from the Dusted Valleys Beautiful Home Owners Association. If you are a man who remembers things well, you'll remember that you had to comply with various regulations in order to own a home here. Do you remember this?" The woman spoke like she was reading off of a script and looked like an extra from a bad 50s movie. She wore a pink skirt suit with pale panty hose and strawberry ice cream-coloured pumps. She also had a hat on which Feliks appreciated as churchwear and all, but it was a little ridiculous for a Friday.

"No, because I didn't agree with anything." He was pretty much ready to close the door.

"All home owners sign a terms and conditions in regards to the DVBHOA. If you don't sign it, you can't live here." She smiled, all teeth, blinking.

"I think my dad did all of that or something? I don't know. Uh, why does this matter?"

"Ah, in that case, maybe you aren't aware. Here we have certain beauty standards when it comes to the lawns and upkeep of our houses here. Because a good looking community is more harmonious according to many scientific studies. We've sent you several notices about how your lawn doesn't comply with the standards expected for inclement and winter weather. Did you receive those?"

"Yeah. But do people read those?"

It was evident the woman was trying hard not to break her smile. "Yes, it is considered wise and pertinent to read all material sent by Dusted Valleys' committees, organizations, sister organizations and communities, and other residents."

"My bad then I guess." He was too tired to be agreeable or shy. Feliks wasn't especially threatened by this short, squaty, squawky woman.

"Sir, I'm not sure if you know either that if after a certain period of time and amount of notifications, we're allowed to evict if your aesthetic standards don't meet with the standards listed in our agreement and your home owner's manual."

This got his attention. This was a good joke.  
"So you're, like, saying that because I don't want to freeze my nose off cleaning up dumb snow that will just melt anyway in March, I need to leave? That's actually really hilarious."

"In less technical terms, I suppose so. That is correct."

Feliks' sudden laughter caught her off guard causing her to jump. But he just couldn't help it. She really was trying to pull one over on him.

"You really had me going there, oh my God. You were really good. But tell me a joke when I'm not thinking about going back to bed, okay?"

"Sir, I don't think you get what I'm saying. Maybe it'll be better to say...you will have to find another place to live if you don't shovel your driveway and keep your lawn tidy."

Feliks stopped laughing. So she was serious.

"What? Are you kidding me? That's not a prank or something? It's not a prank day?"

"No, sir, I'm sorry." She sucked her teeth and nodded, squinting her eyes.

"You can't just make me homeless 'cuz my lawn is snowy! Why don't you evict the clouds for that? They're the ones that did it!"

"Sir, please just tidy your lawn. You have a week to do so before we start serving evictions—"

"I can't believe this! This is so uncool. It should be illegal. You should arrest and evict that dude a block over who always lets his dog go crap and pee all over my yard."

"You can turn in forms and we can consider citing him."

"Good, you better give me like forty. And I'll give one to you for trying to evict me!"

"Mister Feliks, that's not how those work."

"That's how they should work. That's how mine will work. I'll give you three just for not knowing how to say my name."

"Sir, if I've informed you of your eviction status, I'll be making my leave. I hope you see the right thing to do and keep up your yard and street area."

She couldn't leave fast enough. Feliks couldn't even respond before she was trotting off in almost a gallop, skidding a bit on the snow covered driveway. Feliks rolled his eyes, slamming his door in frustration. He'd have taken extra delight in seeing the woman surprisedly slip and fall onto her bottom at the loud, gunshot-like door sound.

If the snow-covered lawn and driveway were reasons to evict, the woman should have seen the inside of the house. It was a nice interior, rustic furnishings that Feliks just stuck with since they came with the house. It had two stories, two bathrooms which Feliks took full use of, a kitchen and dining room with island separator, one bedroom, another bedroom which he'd turned into a knick knack room, a media room, a laundry room, a large garage filled with rubbish, and a spacious living room along with a back deck area and small pool. For all of the rooms and space it had, almost 90% of the house was a mess.

Feliks wasn't tidy. He was prone to leaving food containers out instead of throwing them away. He had books and magazines and work papers scattered throughout. He often found lost items and discarded food items in the couch, cabinets, and underneath the sinks in the bathroom. In the rare event a family member came over, they would attempt to clean a bit but wouldn't make it very far. It was a big job. Much like the logic behind Feliks not wanting to clean up some snow that would just fall again the next day, no one wanted to spend time cleaning a room that would just accumulate more trash. Feliks himself was fine with living in a bit of clutter and mess. The only thing he really didn't like were spills and sticky things which were about the only messes he bothered to clean up. So occasionally a bald spot would appear in the mess but was usually consumed by an old receipt book or chip bag.

Lis was also aggravated about the mess but wasn't the tidiest herself when she was single. She'd only became the Patron Saint of Bleach when she'd got engaged. So the fate of Feliks' house was basically to mimic an exploded garbage bag.

Feliks flopped on his couch, crunching on a magazine and can of chips in the process. Wincing and kicking the can out from under his leg, he whipped out his phone and dialed his best friend. She picked up quickly.

"Is this about the Green commission papers? Because I needed that yesterday, you doof."

"No, Lis, calm down. I'll get it, I'll get it. This isn't about that."

"Oh? What's up then?"

"Do you know any lawn cleaning people? I could just get the phonebook and look but I don't know where one is."

"No, but if you find the phonebook, call a maid service. And a trash truck."

"Haha. Cute. No, for real. Do you know anybody? Do you clean your own lawn?"

"Well my lawn isn't as big as my house so yeah, I do."

"You cannot tell me you go out in this mess and shovel snow."

"Well that I make the fiance do. If he can stand it for more than a minute. But of course I rake and everything."

"Maybe you can come shovel my driveway and get rid of all this snow, then."

"I'm hanging up."

Much to his chagrin, she made good on her word. Of course. He needed her more than ever and she was no help.

He slid through his contact list. There were a few people in there that weren't business related. Lis, Lis' fiance. He had a friend Feliciano that was visiting Italy for the winter, but even if he could call him, Feliciano wasn't exactly a hard working kind of guy. When he came over in the past, Feliks' house mess would seem to get twice as big and twice as greasy from all the food he would make. He was sure there were probably still cannoli in his fridge from July.

There was also the option of just looking online but for some reason that seemed like a hassle to do. Type in what he wanted, find the right one in his area, then call them, et cetera. Too much work. He wanted to be lazy.

He stopped on a name, though, that he considered a bit. That name was Toris'.

After the business meeting, Feliks was good on his word. The next Saturday, Toris was already there when Feliks pulled up to his favoured salon, commuting via his own dingy car. Feliks spent the new couple hours laughing at Toris' bewilderment and strange looks at everything going on, being toweled off, how his hair was strange and poofy when it was blow dried. Feliks' only had a trim so the salon visit was mostly spent with Feliks ordering things for Toris to go through and giggling at how he was so new to this. Toris had to put his foot down after Feliks suggested he get ringlets.

When he was finally happy enough with Toris' hair (Toris was more than fine after just the shampoo and cut), they had a late lunch, eating Cuban food from across the street. Feliks didn't find a lot of the agreeable and a bit too spiced and flavourful for his taste. Toris was of course fine with it after three or four antacid tablets. He was also nice enough to drive Feliks somewhere else to get food he did like, including shakes, paying for it all as well. He even dropped Feliks back off, sparing him time and cab fare.

That was two weeks ago and they had texted off and on every day. Most of which were initiated by Feliks who was bored out of his mind at home. Toris would reply with "I'm at work", Feliks would continue to bug him, Toris would respond in spite of his conviction.

Conversations could be five responses each or a hundred more each, ranging from stupid asinine things to Toris' dad and living with his family or Feliks' maternal grandparents being dead or how Toris had to get a GED and not finish high school because of his family's situation or the stupid things Feliks did when he went to a semester or two of college to get some job certifications. This one girl Toris dated after he dropped out and how Feliciano fed Feliks pasta with crab once and that's how he found out he was allergic to shellfish.

Since they'd talked so much and were friends at this point, it seemed natural that he could just call Toris and see what he knew about all of this. Dialing him up, he picked up on the third ring?

"Hello?"

"Hey, what're you doing?"

"Hold on one second." There was a pause but there were muffled sounds heard in the background. Toris finally came back. "Washing dishes. How are you doing?"

Feliks grabbed a nearby candy dish and began to unwrap a piece, holding the phone to his ear with a shoulder. "Not so hot. Do you know people that do lawn stuff? Like raking and stuff?"

"Not off the top of my head. Do you need help with something? Or a reference for someone else?"

"Welllll." Feliks popped the hard candy into his mouth, a little muffled while we sucked on it. "S'kind of like. I have to clean my yard or they'll kick me out or something."

"What? Can people do that?" Toris voice turned serious and held a lot of concerned conviction.

"I guess. I don't know. But I need to clean my yard a little. And I, uh." Feliks tried to think of something cool to say to explain why he didn't want to clean and shovel himself since 'I'm lazy and haven't had my third nap.' didn't sound good. Oh right. Lis said he owed her a project. "There's this HUGE work thing I have to do. So I can't do it."

"That's horrible, I'm sorry...do you need help with it? I don't mind if it's just yard work. I would be happy to help you. It would be no problem."

"Really?" Feliks sat up, knocking another trash item off of his couch in his excitement. "That would be soooo helpful. Really, I would so owe you."

"Yeah, it's really no problem. It's almost two now, right? I don't go in until seven, so it should be time enough to help. How big is your yard?"

Feliks looked out his living room window at the large front lawn. "Not, like, SUPER big." When Toris dropped him off, he dropped him off at the gate since Feliks just had to put in a password and walk a bit to get to his house. Luckily he didn't know the truth.

"Alright, yeah. I'll just settle things at home and see what I can do for you."

"Thanks, man, you're really a big help. My keycode for the door is zero-zero-five-six-nine-nine-three."

"Got it. I'll be there within thirty, alright?"

"'Kay. Bye." Feliks hung up thoroughly pleased. It truly wasn't a lot of work, he thought. Not that he'd ever really shoveled snow. Or raked a yard.

He flopped back onto the couch, thinking for a bit. If Toris was going to come over, he would most likely come inside. Toris, he'd observed and learned, was a tidy person. Feliks' house was probably like a nightmare to him. He looked around. It really wouldn't be too hard to just put some things in a garbage bag.

He found one after a bit of a search, under the sink where he supposed he should have known one would be. Though he typically had a bunch of garbage bags in his kitchen cabinet for his normal food trash, they seemed to be gone; put that on a list of things to put on a grocery list. He went back to his couch, at least wanting to sit down while he cleaned.

This turned out to be a horrible idea.

The first thing Feliks grabbed was a freshly opened bag of kettle corn from two days ago, definitely not something to throw away. That would be his working snack. The second thing was a three month old magazine. He hadn't read all of it yet so he wanted to quickly go through it and catch up on things. That was a bit of a time waste so he decided to read it later. The third item was an empty chip bag which was obviously trash, so that could go, making him proud of himself. Success.

Two bags of half eaten snacks, an unopened soda can and three magazines later, Toris knocked on the door. The only thing in the trash was the chip bag.

"Come in." Feliks called loud enough so he could hear, not thinking. Toris entered the house with an already agitated expression which turned to one of shock automatically.

"What is..." Toris began, standing in the doorway, looking into the living room.

"Oh. Uh. This is my house. Welcome?" Feliks at least hoped that he looked somewhat busy since he had a trashbag and all. "You want a drink or something?"

Toris was wrapped up in a scarf and large hooded jacket, eyeing the room almost suspiciously. He unwound the scarf and unzipped the jacket, hanging them slowly on the coat stand Feliks had set up. Despite his messy house, his closets and shoes were immaculate. Clothes were always hung up unless they were dirty. Then it was a free for all.

"Could you find one in all this?" He asked, skeptical.

"Yeah. Of course. There's some in the fridge." He rolled his eyes getting up. "It's not that bad. It just needs a little, uh. Spring cleaning."

He walked to the kitchen but not without hearing Toris say "A spring, summer, winter, and fall cleaning perhaps."

He groaned, opening his fridge. Maybe he could get him a drink and just usher him outside. He grabbed a soda bottle, checking the flavor. Feliks had a thing for fruity sodas. Something about them just tasted better than the normal types and brands. He also grabbed a bottle opener, being someone who appreciated the vintage glass bottle types of sodas. Hopefully Toris would too. He didn't consider that it was extremely cold outside and he was offering up a frosty soda.

When he came back into the living room, Toris had a serious look on his face, holding the trash bag and throwing away food wrappers and empty plastic cups. He'd started a pile of magazines and books and had put a few other non-empty food items on the small table in the middle of the room next to the couch.

"You don't have to do that, dude." Feliks said, though with little true fight. He found it pretty cool that Toris just felt like he could clean up without asking. Also that his floor was going to be visible.

"It's fine. It'll need to be vacuumed after, though." Feliks was sure he probably wouldn't do that. Maybe if Toris liked the soda well enough...

"Sure, I'll get on it." He moved to the couch and sat down, sweeping some crumbs off onto the cleared ground. Toris had only cleaned about 10% of the floor. Feliks sat the two sodas on the table, starting to pop off the tops. "Do you want green apple or strawberry."

"Those are strange flavours. Green apple."

"Good, I like the red better." It was true. He was a fan of green apple, but sometimes it was so sour he couldn't take it. Either time, he'd always had to sip it slowly. Feliks liked sweet and hearty flavours, not spicy or sour ones.

He raised the green apple soda, Toris grabbing it from over the couch and taking a long drink. "It's pretty good. I haven't seen one of these old bottles sold in a long time."

"A corner store sells them. You can do, like, pick your own six packs and everything."

"That's neat." Toris disappeared while Feliks tried not to laugh at someone in this century using the word 'neat'.

While Toris had commented that it would take a year to clean the room, it truly just took him twenty minutes to deal with most of it. There were stacks of certain things in the back of the room like newspapers and magazines, a bin that Toris had found now contained food items and various other things. The floor was dirty, but he couldn't do much about that. The carpet was light so it wasn't that big of an eyesore unless the crumbs and string and various debris were a strong colour. Toris collapsed on the couch with a large exhale and Feliks handed him his drink back.

"You're kind of like a cleaning wizard."

"I've been cleaning messy rooms my whole life, mine or not."

"It shows," Feliks kicked his feet back. "I should pay you to clean the whole house."

"I couldn't even imagine what your bedrooms and bathrooms look like. What did you mention last time? Super food, super cash?"

"That was different. This is more like. Hmm. Kinda super food, maybe a free drink or two."

"It could you two minutes to do that audit stuff. This was half an hour almost!"

"Kinda super food, a free drink or two, a favor coupon."

Toris shook his head, though still laughing. "You're really something."

They sat there and drank for a little bit before Toris started again.

"By the way...the front yard out there. Is that really what you think is not SUPER big?"

"It could be bigger...?" Feliks reasoned. Which was true. But it was still pretty large. The only thing in the spacious yard was one tree in the middle. There were no pieces of furniture, shrubs, or other ornaments. Just snow, snow, and more snow in a very large yard plot plus driveway that led to a garage.

"I won't go back on my word. But tell me, will they really evict you if you don't clean it?"

"Some lady came by not long ago. She was really grody looking. And she was like 'Uh you need to clean this soon or you're out of here! On the street! Totally homeless!'"

"That's truly horrible. I never thought gated communities were so harsh." Toris sighed and looked at his hands. "I'll get started if you want. I know you have that project, too."

"Oh, right. Yeah, if you want to." Feliks looked down at his own drink.

Toris stood up, placing his own on the table. He moved to the front area, putting his winter clothes back on. "Do you have a shovel? Rake? Uh, other stuff like that?"

"In the garage." Feliks looked up, pointing to the door leading to the garage, right to the side of the living room television.

Toris nodded and bowed through it, closing it behind him. A few seconds later Feliks heard a loud 'Are you kidding me?!'. Feliks knew he must have discovered the garage was a mess bigger than the living room, bathrooms, and bedroom combined.

Five minutes later, Feliks decided he should at least work while Toris was being so generous with his time and hard work. It honestly didn't take him long to open his laptop and start the project, finishing it rather quickly. He looked at his large ornate grandfather clock. Only thirty minutes had passed and he'd started, finished, and emailed all the findings and documents to Lis. He decided to get up and look out the window to see how Toris was doing.

The driveway, for one, was already completely bare. The snow also wasn't mounded up, but put levelly in the street gutter. Toris now had a rake and was slowly raking the snow from the lawn to the curb, raking some leftover dead leaves into another area. He'd taken his heavy jacket off, most likely because it was hard to move in, and was only raking with a scarf and thick sweater for protection from the cold.

Feliks felt for him a little, feeling a little snotty that Toris had done so much while he was so flippant. Of course, Toris had either offered or just done it himself each time. But something still didn't feel right. It was almost like taking advantage of someone, since not being responsible or nice enough to say no and mean no to him was in and of itself a little bit like using him.

He tapped his chin, wondering if he should go out and help. He decided against it, knowing he was most likely to just slack off. Feliks had better ways to service people: hospitality and hard work jobs were not one of them.

Entering the kitchen, he wondered if he had any kind of food to make. That was sort of a given. The fridge was filled with drinks and older food, not something to serve people (and he made a mental note to get rid of those cannoli). The freezer, however, was filled with things to fry and microwave.

Feliks suddenly had an ingenious idea.

\-----

Toris was extremely loud when he came back in the house, kicking off his shoes in a rushed way, hurrying to fiddle with the coat rack and Feliks could have sworn he heard him shake off like an animal. Feliks could hear him from the messy kitchen. He'd taken some time to clean up some of the counters and the stove top, as well as clearing half of the island. That was the last he'd heard of him, though, other than a few stiff sighs and squeaking of the leather couch.

Feliks felt proud of himself for being a good host for a second as he stirred a concoction he'd made. He remembered their conversation about pierogi and got some out of the freezer, putting them in the microwave for a little bit. Kind of a food experiment, Feliks had opened them and put the pierogi contents in a clean saucepan he'd found plus a few other ingredients he'd had to mull over that he happened to have in his pantries from his mother's housewarming basket; Feliks wasn't the kind to think something needed cumin or rosemary or more flour or not when it came to cooking, though eating was a different story. Toris seemed to be someone who noticed though, so a dash of this and that could be very impressive.

He kept the pierogi pastry to the side, though it was beginning to get cold and hard. He put in the microwave again while he hunted for a clean spoon. He paused when he heard the leather squeaking again. Toris appeared after Feliks had found one and was beginning to hunt for plates.

"It's. It's really freezing outside."

"Duh. I told you. Why do you think I didn't want to go out there?" Oops.

Toris looked like a damp dog. Feliks sighed, thinking about all the things the salon would have to do to him to fix this. He had actually kept his large coat on, trying to stay warm. "It's all done though. So hopefully you're fine now."

"Yeah, thanks honestly. You're like. A life saver. And a home saver. Where the hell was I gonna put all this?"

Toris moved stiffly to the stove. "What is this?"

"I'm going to call it Feliks' Fantastic Food Phenomena." Feliks said, finally locating a glass plate. He had paper already out and about but he didn't want sticky leather if the liquid in the pot leaked through it.

"That doesn't answer any true question I have." Toris replied, leaning over the pan. He inhaled the steam, feeling a bit better, obviously by the look on his face that went from concerned to a bit blissful.

"It's great, 'kay. Just enjoy it when I give it to you. You've been working hard, I've been working hard. Totally a fair trade."

"I'm not sure." Toris sighed through the steam.

"I've got blankets upstairs." Feliks had finally located a couple plates in an upper cabinet. "Oh my gosh, you should see them. I am like a blanket. Hoarder. And quilts. I love bed stuff. I have so, so much bed stuff. I'll bring you one. A good one. Even though they're all pretty good. Also your hair looks really bad. You should tie it up."

Toris shot him a glance but stopped himself, continuing to enjoy the steam. Feliks quickly came over and bumped him out of the way. "Also don't get hair in the food."

"I wasn't..." He started, but seemed to be too cold to bicker. Feliks stirred the stuff in the pan a little bit more before spooning some onto each plate until he was satisfied.

"Go, like, sit or something. I've got this, okay? Be super happy because I only feed the best people."

Toris nodded, going to sit at a stool prepared at the island. Feliks, meanwhile, took out the various pierogi skins and placed them over the mixture. He was pretty proud of his meal. He took both plates and turned, trying to imitate a professional waiter as best as possible. He placed the plate down in front of Toris and another right in front of it. He also pulled two metal forks he happened to find in a drawer. He was very much, for the most part, a paper and plastic guy.

"So guess what I did?" Toris opened his mouth but Feliks quickly answered before he could finish. "I, like, took these pierogi— You remember we talked about that right? And I pried them open and took the stuff in the middle out and put it in this pot with some, uhm. I don't know, it's meat soup. Like canned stuff. And also some spices and water and this cube in a bottle. My mom gave me a bunch, you put them in things—"

"A bullion cube?"

"Yeah, that. And I made a whole bunch of stuff with it and put it on the plate and put the pierogi outsides on top. So it's a pierogi pot pie. And now we're food even."

"I gave you pot pie and a salad."

"Are you going to complain or eat, Toris?"

He answered by picking up his fork, cutting into the pierogi pastry and scooping it up with some of the Frankensteined innards. He ate it, chewing while thinking. "It's not bad. It's warm...I like it."

"See, I knew you would." Feliks himself excitedly dug in. He liked it himself though he knew it wasn't as good as the things Toris had made him, though he wouldn't openly admit it.

"It's nice." He replied. "Thank you for making this for me."

"Of course." Feliks replied. The sheepishness hit him suddenly, thinking about how this probably wasn't very good to him although he was being nice. But something about being nice was somehow just as good. Lis probably would have been very obviously either displeased or unimpressed. Toris wasn't singing praise, but he looked as genuine as he could being so frigid in temperature. Feliks smiled a little. It was nice to just be friendly and nice like this with someone that wasn't Lis. It had been a long time.

He stopped though, getting up. "Oh right. Let me get you a quilt or something."

"Thank you," Toris nodded. "It would be really great."

Feliks scurried through the dining room and up the stairs, into his bedroom and closet. The blankets were always sealed in plastic comforter bags or rolled up and round with ribbons in a large shelving unit he'd had installed. He went through them, trying to find a nice, large, fluffy one that was warming enough.

He grabbed a large pink one that he was fond of and unzipped the bag, shaking it out. It smelled nice and was made of nice down and was extremely soft and comfortable. He hugged it himself, loving the feeling even through his own jumper and high-waisted pants.

He wondered, all of a sudden, if Lis was here, if he would make her food and bring her blankets.

Well, of course not. Lis was way more familiar to him. They had a more openly friendly rapport. The kind of friends that could call each other assholes or morons and shove each other off a cliff and laugh about it later. The strange things he'd seen Lis do or the horrible things he'd been around with her were just markings of friendship. So if she'd come over, he'd knock her off the couch and tell her to go get her own food from the fridge and her own blanket.

If Feliciano was there, Feliciano would be making the food and bring a blanket so that didn't work.

He thought for a second about a random guy, if he was to ever bring one home. Maybe he would make food. A microwave burrito or soup from the cabinet if the guy asked and he wouldn't be happy about it. He certainly wouldn't give him a blanket, though. Some random guy didn't need to get his sleaze and fleas on his nice linens and blankets.

Feliks also questioned that in a scenario about bringing a man home, why he was someone whom he considered "sleazy".

He carried it downstairs slowly, face buried in it. Toris was in a nice comfortable position between being a stranger or acquaintance and a close friend. They hadn't known each other that long so it was special to him in a lot of ways. They hadn't had a lot of heavy interactions or personal ones, but somehow it felt like they had. As he thought, maybe he was wrong. Feliks had talked about his family, Toris had talked about his and his relationships. It was nice to share things like that with someone other than what amounted to two people.

It felt warm, Feliks thought, as he breathed into the blanket. He rested on the bottom step for a second just standing and blinking. It did feel warm.

"Is something wrong?"

Feliks peeked over the side of the blanket to see Toris on the couch and not in the kitchen. He was leaning over the back, looking through the kitchen door which was basically just a walkway which led to the open kitchen and dining areas. Feliks' ears went hot, not expecting him to be completely in view.

"No. It just smells good." He walked over, passing by the island. He noticed his plate was left but Toris' was gone.

"D'you already finish eating?" Feliks asked as he sat down on the couch tossing the blanket on Toris who had finally removed and hung up his thick jacket.

"Yes. I washed the plate and put it in your dishwasher. After I cleaned it and your sink out, anyway."

"I swear I wasn't gone that long. I think you've gotta be some kind of magician."

"I guess it's just all that practice." Toris smiled, wrapping himself up. "I'm not so cold now, so I'm sorry you had to go and get this for me."

Feliks grabbed his drink that he forgot and took a swig while he tucked his knees to his body on the couch. It was driving him a little crazy that Toris was just so cool and calm when Feliks had kind of been a pain.

"Dude, I had you do a bunch of yard work and you cleaned, like, a room and a half in my house. I don't even want to know if you did the garage." Feliks leaned his head on his knees and looked over at Toris in his blanket cocoon. "What's the deal here?"

"It's just a nice thing to do for a friend, right?" Toris asked, looking back with a concerned expression on his face. "And I'd need a truck for your garage."

There was a bit of silence before Toris spoke again. "And I know what it's like to be evicted."

Feliks felt his heart shrink. He remembered Toris had been sort of homeless before but didn't apply it to this situation. It felt sensical that he would jump to help him if that's what he thought. It's true that Feliks was probably on the outskirts of being evicted. But it was possible that he could just call his father, tell him, and there would be some sort of legal threat or clearing of the issue. He could have just moved somewhere else. While those were both sort of childish and irresponsible, they were options. Feliks would probably never be likely to live on the street or have to work extremely hard to find a place to live.

To imagine Toris being concerned to find a place to live, having to room with a boy he was having feelings with in an environment that was awkward and a bit painful to have to rely on others, as well as having to work to make sure he had a home to come back to if he were to be kicked out. Also that he probably had to continue to have to think about keeping a house in the back of his mind.

Feliks felt especially humbled.

"Yeah. I'm sorry." Feliks whispered.

"It's alright." Toris apparently got the feel of the air. "I'm a little too overzealous sometimes. I'm a serious kind of guy, I guess." He also pulled his feet onto the couch and sat on his knees. "I figured it probably wasn't a huge deal but... I felt concerned for you, I guess. On the chance that it was truly a do or die situation. Plus it seems silly to just leave something like snow shoveling up to chance. Even I can do that much."

Feliks leaned to the side opposite Toris. He felt the need to just say it. "You're really great. Really, really great."

"I really don't think you need to take it that far." Toris squirmed a bit.

"You really need to learn how to take a compliment." Feliks laughed, wiggling his feet. "You're super bad at it."

"Some things I can!" Toris rubbed his forehead, embarrassed. "You just get a little extreme."

"When you really feel something you should just say it. There's no point in not saying something. Like 'Oh those shoes are kind of ugly so you should get some new ones so you look better.' or 'This soup needs salt so you can sell more.'"

"I think people would find things like that rude."

"That's what they say but it's their loss." Feliks flipped his hair back, proud of his ability to be honest. When it came to other people, anyway.

"If you say so." Toris wrapped himself tighter. "It's a little past three, right?"

"Yeah. Close to four. The clock's right there, you know?" He pointed at it, standing and ticking quietly.

"Oh, wow. I didn't even think." He craned his neck. "That's a really impressive clock."

"Yeah. My grandad gave it to me. It's not 'from the old country' but it's rustic so I like it."

"Actually, this leather couch seems kind of out of place with a lot of your stuff in here."

"I like it. It looks rich and expensive. And then I like old stuff. And sometimes old couches are musty and smell like mothballs."

"You can find one that's old looking? But still new."

"Maybe. But I like this one for now. It's cream leather so it kinda works."

The living room was indeed a cream and brown theme. The carpet was light, the couch was light with brown throw pillows, and the other furnishings were wood such as the table, grandfather clock, and ottoman (with had the same leather as a couch; they came as a set). It was a minimalist set up. Truthfully, Feliks was accustomed to busy furniture, but when it came to buying a lot of it he had it sent to his house, he would sleep through the workers bringing it in and they'd leave it in the open garage. It didn't move much from there. He was sure he had two chairs, a TV stand, a big picture he liked and a few other bigger knick knacks. Over all, he had days and bursts of house productivity but most of the time it was messy and his garage looked like an estate sale in a hurricane.

"It's comfortable. At home we've got a couch that has to be at least forty-five years old. It's torn and everything. But it does the job."

"That's gross. Imagine all the butts and everything that have been on that couch." Feliks felt his face go green. Nasty.

"I try not to." Toris awkwardly laughed. "We got it at a garage sale."

"Places sell cheap couches. You could probably get one easy."

"Yeah, maybe. But it's not really a necessity. If I had the extra cash for a new couch I'd buy something else like food or clothes or things like that."

"Of course you're responsible." Feliks rolled his eyes, sitting up. "Why don't you ever act like a doofus for once?"

"I'm capable! But the serious things always come first. And there's a lot of those, so..."

Feliks stretched his legs out. "But if all you do is get wrinkles and extra work and couches at garage sales and shovel snow for people, you'll just get old and achy and a walker."

"I'm fine being old, achy, and...walker-y." Toris chuckled. "It's not that bad."

"Are you kidding? I would die if I was your age and had wrinkles starting. Can't you do something about that? Like, something natural? Lemons? Apricots? I don't know what fixes them but something has to. And then if I got up and had to crack my back like an old guy. Ugh. Gross. You can so fix that."

"Really?" Toris continued to laugh at how animatedly grossed out Feliks was. "What do you suggest for that?"

"Baths. Take a bath every night. A three hour bath." Feliks nodded, snagging a throw pillow to hold.

"I don't have the time to take a three hour bath unlike someone I know." Toris rolled his eyes himself, still trying to get comfortable under the pink, fuzzy blanket.

"Okay, maybe not. But one? You should make time. Two? You don't work every day. You can't tell me you don't have some kind of free time somewhere."

"If I do, I spend it sleeping. Or, I guess, cleaning up people's living rooms and shoveling their driveways and raking and cleaning up their yards."

"You say you're serious and everything? But you're really just a big tease. Well, serious too. But also a tease."

"A tease sounds...weird. Maybe say someone who teases? Is that weird?"

"It's only really weird if you make it really weird, you creep."

Toris finally decided what position he wanted to be in on the couch and turned just as Feliks was going to punch him in the arm. His hand collided with Toris but instead of hitting flesh, it was almost like his hand was pressing on a dictionary.

"What the heck is that?" Feliks just stared as Toris awkwardly stopped in the middle of trying to position himself. He kept his fist in the same place as if he could figure out what just happened in those strange seconds.

"My...chest?" Toris answered, a strange look on his face.

"You're kidding. Are you wearing a bulletproof vest? Are you, like, secretly a spy?" Feliks knocked on it as if it were a door.

"No. I guess that just kind of happens when do as much heavy lifting and hard labour as I do." Toris finally continued to sit with his back against the armchair, taking the blanket off and positioning it over his bent knees. "It's not like I try. I don't have time to work out."

"It's not like you need it." Feliks' eyes widened as he scooted over and matched Toris' position on the couch, throw pillow against his own bent knees. "The girls must go crazy over you."

Toris let out what was almost a bark. "Yeah. Sure, okay."

"You could take your shirt off and flex and they'd swoon. Like a true muscle man." Feliks made the motions himself, being the ham he truly was.

"You're kind of crazy, just stop." But he couldn't seem to stop laughing.

"You could be one of those gross guys on the cover of nasty magazines, all oiled up and—"

"You're insane! That's so impossible; your imagination is just going crazy!" Toris was completely red.

"Maybe. But it will definitely be impossible if you don't take three hour baths and get rid of those wrinkles."

"If that's the future that's ahead of me, I'm not sure if I'd want that." He ran a hand through his hair, trying to make his face less hot. "I swear, though, it doesn't look that impressive. I'm really just boney."

"That's some weird bone, then." Feliks said, disbelieving.

"Honest." Toris swore, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. "And I don't think I've had anyone swoon over it in the slightest."

"Really? Don't girls like that thing? That girlfriend you had must've, right?"

"Well, if you're going there..." Toris started, clamming up a bit. "It's not like we got that far, anyway."

"You don't have to go into that kind of thing." Feliks kicked at him, hard. "Gross."

"You mentioned it!" Toris defended himself, taking the kick to his shin. In the positions they were in, it wasn't that big a blow. Also Feliks wasn't exactly a force to be reckoned with, physically.

"Fine, sure. Whatever. I meant in a more innocent way, but if you want to play a pervy card then I guess that's up to you."

"Is that really perverted?" Toris asked, seeming to be actually wondering and not just questioning Feliks' seemingly bold line on sexual conversation.

"No, I'm just messing with you." Feliks kicked him again.

"Your teasing seems to be kind of violent today." Toris rubbed at his shin, finally feeling a bit of a sting after being kicked in the same place twice.

"Someone with a chest like a brick wall can't be complaining a about a shin kick." Feliks dug his heel in.

"Ow, you're starting to sting a bit." Toris still looked a bit bemused but was fading quickly.

"I guess I really am just a powerhouse or something." Feliks shrugged, finally stopping. "If you, like, can't walk later then I guess you know who to blame."

"Yeah, you."

"No, yourself for not being strong enough to handle a few kicks!"

"Yeah, that sure is how that works..." Toris sighed, reclining a bit.

There was a bit of silence after that. In hindsight, the conversation had had a bit of an awkward one at the heart of it all. Feliks sighed, wondering too if Toris was just staying around to be polite like he always was. It'd be nice if he was keeping company just to keep company but Feliks still wasn't sure about Toris enough. He didn't want to say Toris was fake. Being fake and being polite and nice weren't the same thing. But being a little more familiar would be good.

"So, uh." Toris began again. "This is a pretty big house and all. Especially for one person?"

Feliks looked around. "I guess. My old house was bigger."

"Maybe it just is to me. Our house is about the size of this, the kitchen, and the dining room. And it has six people in it regularly."

Feliks whistled. "That's kinda tight. I'd get claustrophobic and all that jazz."

"Yeah, it's pretty, uh. Intimate." Toris replied. "Also, are you going to finish your food? You kind of just left it in the kitchen."

"Oh, right. I bet it's all nasty and cold by now. Gross!" Feliks basically shot up, completely frazzled he forgot about one of his great loves in life. He was in the kitchen in a flash, popping it into the microwave. Safe. It was warm again in thirty seconds. He wasn't a chef, but he was the master of reheating, even if the microwave was really the star of the show.

He reentered, food already in his mouth as he sat on the couch. "Thanks, dude. That would have gotten moldy or something."

"I was a little shocked I had to remind you. You seem to put food before pretty much anything else."

Feliks looked a little offended. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You just really like food?" Toris questioned, wondering how that was a landmine he seemed to have stepped on.

"Hmm...that's true. As long as it's not some fat comment." Feliks quipped, shoving more faux-pot pie into his mouth.

"No, no, no. I'm sorry, you're not fat." Toris waved his hands defensively.

"Chill out, I didn't think you were super serious." Feliks chewed. "Of course I know I'm not fat. You don't need to say anything about that."

"So do you watch your weight or anything? It seems hard to with how much you—" He quit while he was ahead this time. "I mean, do you work out yourself?"

"No? Who would want to do that. Oh my gosh, like, getting sweaty and tired on purpose? You've got to be a nut." Feliks continued eating, disgusted. "I just eat and do whatever. It doesn't seem to do me that bad. Like, what do they call that...A high metabolism? One of those."

"Don't you need to move around to have a high metabolism work?"

"I move around, duh." Feliks sucked his teeth. "How do you think I get places? I can't use a taxi all the time. Like walking to my house from the gate. Walking around a store. Stuff like that. Oh and then Lis likes to walk so sometimes she invites me. I guess that's exercising but it's not like. Push ups and those gross, germy machines."

"Actually, I've been wondering. Why don't you have a car of your own?" Toris asked, genuinely curious.

"Hmm. Well, I mean it would be fun to drive. Like, on a racetrack kind of thing, going as fast as I could. But that's illegal so that takes all the fun out of it. And my mom and dad didn't want me going crazy so they didn't get me a car and gave me a trip for my 16th birthday instead. And I never got around to buying one. Because now I don't have to take some dumb class and pass a test and I can just call a taxi. I should do a little formula or something too since it probably saves me a bunch instead of buying gas and having it break down all the time."

"Huh. I guess if it works for you. Knowing you'd rather drive like an Andretti, I don't know if I'd like you on the road anyway." Toris teased him, wrapping himself tighter.

"At least I don't have a car that looks like it'd fall apart in the rain. How rusty can you get?"

"Well, it's really ugly and everything, I know. But it took forever to buy it, so it's still really important to me. I've only had it two years, though. I do worry about how long it will last me."

"Yeah, it looks close to falling apart already, dude. I hope you're saving up." Feliks continued to be insensitive though Toris only took the barbs in stride.

"If it ever does break down and I can't fix it, I'll just start biking again." Toris mused, grabbing his soda and taking a big gulp.

Feliks followed suit. "No wonder you're a man of steel. When do you ever stop moving?"

"I'm not moving now." He replied, a soft tone to his voice. "It's nice. Comfortable. Ah, if I was home then I'd probably be cleaning or some sort of chore. So even if I had to do a bit of labour, this is probably the most rest I've got in a while."

"If I was you, I'd probably just fall asleep in the middle of vacuuming or making soup or something."

"I have before. Cooking, doing the wash. At work, once." Toris said, plainly.

"Are you kidding me? Dude, you have got to rest." Feliks was genuinely concerned. "What if you like burn your face off, seriously. Haven't we talked about this before? You've got to lay off stuff like this."

"I would love to. It's just not that simple. Sometimes I can get some in, but it's not a lot. But it's okay. I'm used to it at this point. So it's nothing to be that worried about. Although..." Toris paused. He shook his head and smiled at his soda.

"What?" Feliks asked, starting to feel a little weird.

"I was just thinking it's nice to be worried about, for a change."

Feliks' ears warmed. "Who says stuff like they fall asleep in the middle of just living life and everything and expects someone not to worry, okay? It's normal!"

"It's okay. It's nice, so thank you. Especially since it comes from you."

"What's that mean?" Feliks wasn't embarrassed so much as he was curious about that one.

"Well, you're a pretty self sufficient person. Not to say you're selfish or anything! But you just seem...very contained? Maybe that's it. So for you to worry...I guess it's just a little special."

Feliks' ears must have been scarlet. He was extremely inflated by the nice thing Toris had said but also very embarrassed. Something about that was just extremely vulnerable. He wasn't exactly the kind that didn't worry about people. Lis had broken her arm more than once as a kid and he'd cried from worry and fear. His father left often to go back and forth to Poland and he cried and fretted until his mother told him he'd touched down. He'd been worried about his own problems before. He was lackadaisical in a lot of ways. Feliks wasn't completely oblivious, though, and knew when it came time to actually man up and be serious, to think about things in a realistic and genuine light. So that wasn't strange, feeling worried.

But this was a genuine worry for someone he didn't know that well. Someone he was inclined to even if he wasn't fully understanding of why in a lot of ways. Yes, there were the obvious things. Toris was nice, he seemed to be easily persuaded to Feliks' whims. But it was more than that. People could be nice and easy to fall in line in the past but that didn't make him have a connection that seemed old and dire. That was what felt a little vulnerable. Having to feel something without fully understanding the situation in which those feelings came from.

So he laughed.

"That's cool, dude. Like, I'm glad you noticed I'm so nice and everything. Took you long enough."

"I noticed before! It's you saying things like that...although I'm sure this is embarrassing myself, so I'll stop."

Usually Feliks would throw out a quip like 'No, it's okay. Nothing embarrassing about talking about how cool I am.' but this was something he wanted to sort of get over because he was feeling certain ways.

"Yeah. You aren't exactly looking very cool right now." Feliks sipped his soda, hoping his ears weren't as red as he was sure his tongue was.

"I don't think I can look cool with this thing on anyway. As comfortable as I find it, anyway." Toris shuffled around under his blanket, the excess of the large fabric pooling at his feet.

"Hey. It's really cool. Are you saying I'm not cool? Because I find that cool."

"Well. Cool for you. But it doesn't suit me much."

Feliks reached forward, careful not to spill his soda, and grabbed the excess blanket. He pulled it over his own knees, the soft down easily covering his legs and torso without pulling any off of Toris.

"It's warm though. So that suits anybody, y'know? Snow shovelers can't be choosers."

"I guess that's right." Toris scooted back his feet, making room for the sudden invasion.

It was approaching half-past four when Feliks looked at the clock. That meant there was still an hour and a half before Toris had to contemplate leaving. He wondered again why Toris didn't just take off after the food and re-established body temperature.

"It's like. Later. D'you have any plans or anything?" He asked, drinking the last of his soda.

"No." Toris paused, almost sleepily before his eyes opened a bit wider. "I'm not imposing, am I? I can leave."

"Stay if you want. I don't care." Feliks brushed it off, although glad inside for the company.

"I'm probably not much fun." Toris then audibly yawned. That wasn't a great sign.

"Are you, like. Sleepy now?" Feliks raised an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry...but a little, yes." Toris slid down a bit. Feliks could feel the tips of his toes touch his own. "Don't worry. It's not because you're boring."

"I know I'm not boring. But you're pretty boring for just sleeping right now."

"Sounds like me." Toris couldn't even laugh. How fast could someone even fall asleep.

"You can crash for a bit." Feliks was a little annoyed. But also felt a sense of relief that Toris was open to power napping. He needed it. And it made him a man after his own heart, if one could put hibernating and power napping on the same level of sleeping.

"Thank you. I'm sorry again."

"Don't drool on my blanket." Feliks bemoaned, realizing Toris was indeed fading fast.

"I can't make any promises."

"You better swear on your life! Like I'm serious, that's gross!" Feliks was almost shrill. A good friend doesn't drool on another friend's best blanket.

But Toris didn't respond. Feliks was now aware that Toris was probably the fastest sleeper he had ever met. A drunken Lis wasn't even this easy to pass out.

Feliks also felt an impending dread at now having the responsibility to have to wake up Toris in time for work. Usually he'd just wake the person up and get a time frame or just make them do it themselves. But Toris was tired and he'd added onto that growing ache and sleepiness. So this was at least tit for tat, which Feliks was fine with.

"You're a real loser." Feliks told the sleeping Toris, hoping there wouldn't be a reply. When one didn't come, Feliks peered over the other man's knees. Toris appeared to not be sleeping with his mouth open, which was truly a load off his mind. He was also twisted strangely. His knees were still up but half of his chest was twisted around so his head could lay sideways. He was also sleeping with his hair going in twelve different directions. What had he even gotten him a salon visit for with this kind of hair mistreatment?

Feliks got up, rather sloppily with no real thinking about waking Toris up. Not that he would wake up anyway. He seemed pretty conked out. Feliks tossed his empty bottle and throw pillow on the carpet and set about fixing this mess of a man. Straightening his knees was first and Feliks suddenly noticed then that Toris was quite a bit taller than he was. Not an astronomical amount, but a significant amount. He wasn't the best judge, but there were at least three inches between them. And Feliks had noticed before, of course. But somehow it seemed very apparent when Toris took up almost his whole couch.

The top part was kind of tricky. Like he had said earlier, Toris probably didn't look like he felt. He wasn't light, but not as heavy as Feliks expected. Straightening out his torso was unexpectedly easy. One of his arms was sort of squished under him, though Feliks was impressed. He was still holding his green soda bottle, none of it going anywhere or tipping over. Feliks accidentally nudged it once and it was almost like he was instinctively holding it upright since his wrist moved to make it neck up constantly. He finally pried the bottle from Toris' hands, setting it down on the table. It was only half full. He took a sip for himself, puckering a little. He was surprised that Toris could take such huge drinks. Although considering his usual food tastes, maybe it wasn't so abnormal.

Toris' head was then straightened and lifted, a pillow put underneath it. Feliks tried to straighten out his hair as much as possible, but without a comb and Toris sitting down, it was an ultimately lost cause. Feliks combed the stuff on the sides with his fingers. He was surprised that it was as soft as it was. He smiled. Probably due to his rigorous salon work. Not that he did it himself. But he made him get it done so it was practically the same thing.

He didn't want to be creepy about this, though. He'd seen a whole bunch of movies where one person was sleeping and some other person was fawning over them, touching them on the face in their sleep. Of course, these were mostly in romantic ways so it didn't really apply to him. But Feliks just sat on the table, careful not to knock over Toris' green apple soda, and stared at him for a bit.

Feliks wondered if Toris would need to shave before he left. He was a clean shaven guy but he knew how it was to keep the stubble and everything away. He himself was a religious chin and neck waxer, as well as face. He'd tried facial hair before. It ended up not suiting him. It was almost five, though, and the small dark hairs were beginning to show under and around his chin. He had the things to help, of course, quickly available in his bathroom. Did that mean he needed to get him up earlier? He was already unaware of when to wake him anyway, so it would probably be best to just let him go to work prickly.

He also wondered how old Toris was. He seemed to be a little older that Feliks. He himself had turned twenty the previous month. He was pretty proud of it, too. He seemed to be doing pretty well for a twenty-year-old. A house that was paid for. A nice and good paying job. A decent family. He was pretty much set in terms of everything. Toris was a different story but looked rugged. Feliks was unsure of if it was because he was indeed a bit older or if it was just because he was life-worn.

Although, if he could allow himself to think something like this, Toris was a guy who looked better with an aged look and style.

Which, speaking of which, Feliks lazily let a hand lift up the blanket that covered Toris. He peeked under.

Lord help this man.

Toris had abysmal style. The sweater he had on was pretty decent by itself. It was cheap but suiting. A slate/cream blend with a red pattern design. Typical Walmart-esque fare. He also had green corduroys. Green. The bottoms were frayed, there was a hole in the shins. How horrible, how completely horrible.

Also, this was something he had barely noticed before, but while he was examining Toris' ensemble it was very obvious. Through the whole in the pants he noticed that Toris had no leg hair. He wondered why he decided to do that. Not that he wasn't a shaver himself. Body hair was something he just found really gross and didn't match his aesthetic choices. Normally the only people he'd heard of shaving their hair were people into extreme fitness, women, and leg models. Toris wasn't a woman. His chest sure was something but he was adamant that wasn't an all around thing. He also didn't seem the type to be a leg model.

This was something he would write down to ask him at a later date.

Feliks lowered the blanket, sighing. Thoroughly bored, he sat there for a spell, continuing to drink Toris' drink slowly. He jumped when his phone started to ring, fifteen minutes after Toris had first fallen asleep. He stood up, scurrying from the room to the stairs. Pulling the phone from his pants pocket, he peered at the screen. Of course it was Lis.

He answered in a hushed tone. "What is it?"

"Wow, okay. Hello to you too." Lis laughed. "So I just wanted to tell you thank you for sending those over. I already sent them on up the ladder. Even though they're a day late, we didn't have to do much else with them."

"Okay, yeah, okay. You're welcome, whatever." He whispered harshly. "I'm in the middle of something okay?"

"What's wrong with you? Are you hoarse? That's hard to believe. I've heard you scream your lungs out and still have room for more. Is this about those lawn people you wanted? Did they screw something up? Or, well, did you even get any to begin with?"

"No, Lis. Someone is sleeping here and I can't wake them up, okay?" He did not want to get into this. He wasn't dumb. He knew what she would think.

"Ohhh? Really?" It had already started judging from the musical tone she added to those words. "That was fast. I guess the lawn thing makes sense, now. I didn't know what was your type though."

"Lis!" He screeched, though still trying to whisper.

"I'll let you go if that's what's going on. My little Felly is finally going to be a man. Or unless I called too late, congrat-"

"Lis, I swear I will disown you, crash your wedding, and your car." Feliks gave up whispering for his fractured dignity. "It's not like that. Toris is on my couch. He cleaned my lawn and he's totally exhausted. So shut up, okay?"

"Is that what kids call it these days? Cleaning the lawn?"

"I am hanging up."

"No, no. I'm sorry. But you walked into that one. What the hell is going on over there?"

"Some community bimbo came over and was like 'Oh if you don't clean up well put you on the streets!' and I'm way lazy so I was like 'I'll get someone to clean up for me!' and since Toris is real nice he did it for me but it's literally freezing outside. Literally, since it snowed and everything. So I was super nice and I made food and got a blanket and everything and now he's being really boring and sleeping on my couch. I have to wake him up for work."

"Oh, so you're playing homemaker. You'd think you were six."

"Do you ever stop with some weird deluded fantasy world you live in?"

"I'm just teasing you! I'm glad you found someone willing to put up with your mess. Why would you even let him inside that house?"

"Oh yeah. He cleaned my living room too. And my sink and dishwasher. I bet if I gave him a tour the _whooole_ house would be clean."

"A man like that," Lis mused, "you need to hold onto and never let go. You need more friends that will clean up after you and not be sucked into your strange mannerisms like the rest of us."

"Yeah. It's pretty nice, I guess." Feliks laughed, sitting on a step finally. He sighed. "It's cool having people over. You haven't been over in a while."

"I was over not long ago! And it was about the guy in your house, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Feliks thought for a second. "I forgot about that kinda. Well, before that you haven't been over much."

"Because I'm a little busy? Working, wedding planning. I don't live to entertain you and be at your house."

"What? I know that! Can't I just be nostalgic or whatever?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lis groaned. "But I know you're lonely a lot. And I'm sorry...I know it must be hard."

"I'm so not lonely, okay? I'm fine by myself. I like being with you, that's all! I can like that and not be lonely at the same time."

"Feliks. I know you've got a few other friends and all, but I do worry about you after I get married. I won't be on call all the time. What if I have a baby?"

"Ew." Feliks had to interject.

"Okay, tough guy. But what I'm saying is this is a good chance. I'm being serious when I say you really should take advantage of this. You need a new friend that is good to you so you aren't all blue and moody when I'm not there."

"We're already friends. You know that. Duh." Feliks had grabbed Toris' drink by accident and taken it with him. He looked it for a second before taking another sip; there were only a few left in the bottle. "So, like, you don't have anything to worry about."

"Fine, fine. But I know you like to put on a straight face with things like this. If you don't want to be open and honest and drink the therapy Kool-Aid, then that's your problem."

"I didn't exactly ask for that little love sesh. Or need it, you know!"

Actually. He hadn't thought about it. Feliks suddenly felt down thinking about his best friend not really being his best friend anymore.

"Yes, of course. Feliks the mighty and powerful." She said, sarcastically. "But I'm telling you. Don't let that guy go."

"I won't." Feliks took another big sip before pausing for a bit. 

The line was dead for a bit. Feliks tapped against the bottle while Lis hummed a bit. It felt awkward but he was glad. He kept thinking of things he wanted to say, more like half thoughts. But they were the kind of things where he didn't want to get something out and regret it.

"Hey, uh. Lis?" He finally asked, tapping his foot on the step nervously. He pulled the phone away to look at the time. Toris had been asleep twenty-five minutes.

"Yeah, Feliks?" She asked after a second, used to not talking.

"Well, uh...Okay." Feliks finally composed himself enough to continue. "You can't be like. Gross weird about this, okay? I am so not in the mood for your gross weirdness."

"Yeah, I'll try." She offered. "What's the deal?"

"Well, uhmmm." Feliks muttered, still not fully sure of what he wanted to say. In this case it would be best to just present the facts. "Toris and I were talking and everything. Oh yeah, after this I have to tell you about this abnormal growth I think he might have in his chest cavity."

"Gross."

"Yeah, but it's kind of cool. Anyway, well first off Toris was talking about cleaning my lawn and even though like me getting kicked out is no big deal, it was still kind of a big deal to him because no one should be homeless or something. And, I don't know. He was really, really cool about it. Super cool. And I said something like...uh. You're great. Really, really great."

"...And?" Lis wasn't impressed. "You told me I was really great one time when I brought you your shoes."

"Can't you be a little gross about this?"

"You told me no grossness so I am offering you no grossness."

"Okay, whatever." Feliks finished off the soda. "At the time I was like. Feeling it you know so I just said it. Because it was super great! But now I think it's a little weird that I said that, you know?"

"Yeah I think you may have ran over the second friendship base and went right through to third. But if you want my non-gross opinion, that's not a big deal if you're worried about coming on too strong."

"Lis, I know how to be friends with someone. I'm not a moron." Feliks said flatly. "Just. Ugh. Listen."

"Fine, fine. Figure out what you want though."

"Okay so then later I was talking, he was talking. And he was like talking about how he was tired and all these problems and etc. And I was like telling him about lemon water...I think. I was telling him to fix it and rest and bathe more. And all of a sudden he was like telling me how great I was." Feliks swallowed. "He said it was special that I was worrying about him. That it was nice."

"...Okay that is giving me something gross to work with. That's. That's like home plate, a little."

"I just. This is kind of strange. I'm not sure how strange? But strange strange."

"Well, if you want me to put away the fantastical, beautiful mind I have and just be realistic with this, it's possible he's just a nice guy. You know that, of course, right? So maybe that's just nice to him. I mean, your interactions so far haven't been something I'd call normal, anyway."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So I guess my advice to you would be to just realize he's a very nice and...motherly type person. So it's probably just like that. I know you're concerned about me and making this into something it's not. I'm sorry Feliks, I've probably made you a little paranoid."

"No, I'm not paranoid." He replied, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"No, really. I'm sorry. It just always seemed a little strange. I didn't mean to make you start over analyzing everything. It's really my fault."

"Lis, I'm being serious. I'm not. Paranoid." Feliks ran a hand through his hair. It seemed to be a very simple truth but a little complex and embarrassing to think about, even to say out loud. "This is the first and last time I'm going to say this, okay? So like, don't try to tell me anything about it. That's it, the end. Okay?"

"Yes, of course." Lis had softened a little, now that she thought maybe she had done a little bit of harm here.

Feliks took a deep breath. This shouldn't be a big deal. This shouldn't be something he was so concerned about.

"I think I like that he thinks I'm special and everything."

Lis was silent for a little bit before just making an understanding noise. "Oh."

"I really do think he's great..." Feliks trailed off, leaning against the wall. Something about this was exhausting.

"Sooo." Lis asked, a bit awkward. "You do like him then? In like...a way. THE way?"

Feliks fiddled with the bottle in his hands before dropping it. "Hmmm." He dropped it, letting it roll down the carpeted stairs, thunking and plunking on each step. Feliks himself jumped when it made a loud clunk, hitting the dining area tile and rolling through the kitchen making a lot of racket. Lis seemed to answer that with a little 'Eep!' herself.

Someone else was also aware of the noise. "Feliks? Are you alright?" Toris called groggily from the living room.

"Feliks, what the hell just happened?" Lis asked, a concerned tone to her voice.

Embarrassed, Feliks couldn't think of what to say or do. Should he answer Toris? Lis? This stupid bottle. He stood up, groaning audibly. What a horrible moment in his horrible life. He put the phone to his chest to muffle his voice.

"Yeah, it's just some dumb bottle. Go back to sleep or something."

"No, it's alright. I'm up."

Feliks put the phone back to his ear, listening to Lis mumble off of the receiver herself. He took the chance to finally answer while she probably wasn't paying too much attention herself.

"Yeah. I think I kind of like him, okay?"

Feliks heard her come back to him, starting to say something but he removed the phone from his ear. He looked at it for a second before he hung up.


	6. 006

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like this chapter is long and corny and messy but sometimes we just need long and corny and messy things so hot diggity let the good times roll

Feliks' favourite holiday was Christmas, but the December days that were leading up to it were going by at a snail's pace. It was five days away when he woke up that morning but it felt like an eternity had gone by and an eternity was left.

The spirit of the impending season was very much in his heart though. He had cleaned up his kitchen the day after Toris had left; the fourteenth. His living room was clean which gave him a little bit of inspiration to clean his kitchen and bathroom. It took him all day with a lot of breaks, but his whole first floor was taken care of by eleven at night.

Meanwhile, he was texting several friends at once. Lis was sending him pictures of wedding accessories, like the flowers, giveaway bags, place settings and asking him for his expert opinion. Feliciano was staying in Italy through until the new year but had decided to send Feliks a bunch of pictures of his homeland, telling him funny family stories. Toris and he would shoot the breeze, talking about the holidays happening soon, work stories, family drama, what they did on the holiday break in school.

Feliks found Toris easy to text still, but sometimes Feliks would run into roadblocks.

Once when talking about Christmas and tradition, Toris explained that his "aunt" would go and buy Christmas sweaters every year for everyone to wear on Christmas morning. Feliks said that was cute and that he wished he had more Christmas sweaters himself. Toris sent back a reply:

"I'm surprised you don't have more! You would look good in X-mas sweaters :)"

After the day before, what he'd said to Lis, things made his mind very hyper aware of himself. How he liked those kinds of compliments more than just a thing to boost his ego. How it made him think he'd like to have a Christmas sweater, even maybe an ugly one, to see how Toris would react to it. Things that made him a little embarrassed to think about for too long.

Of course, no indication of this was ever made to Toris.

"haha of course i wud :)))"

The true conflict he had with himself and all of this was that things were a little...different. With him and Toris, anyway. Feliciano, Lis, other friendly acquaintances he had all had a sort of similar pattern in how they were friendly and the friendship just got stronger. From a small conversation to going out to sleeping over to personal things, going as normal friendships would. Lis was a little right in that he was a bit paranoid about Toris, though paranoid might not be the right word. It was just a little confusion. The entire initial interaction with Toris had Lis asking questions. He even agreed that he was a little friendlier than what was typically acceptable. It just seemed to be a back and forth on whether Toris was just an overly friendly person or was being purposefully overly friendly. At this point in time, Feliks was on the side that said he was just an extremely nice and cordial person who sometimes went a little too zealous when it came to being helpful or considerate.

Which he realized was one of the things he found cute was how Toris was overly-considerate and observantly involved with him. Normally that would just be something he liked and appreciated if it was Lis or someone. But in Toris he found it...dare he say?

Attractive.

He had had small attractions before. He wasn't immune to looking at someone and thinking they were cute, hot, beautiful, other flowery adjectives. Feliks had been interested in people before on a very basic level. Sometimes, not very often though, he would see a nice looking boy and think it would be nice to be with someone who looked that good or was that talented, handsome, tall, a myriad of other things. But those things were typically unattainable to him. While Lis had tried to tell him numerous times that he did have chances, people had definitely hit on him before, he wasn't perceptive of it, which Lis was trying to convince him was his problem with Toris too, though that had flip-flopped a bit. This was just another part of the confusion. Was it something attainable? Was it something that was worthless? Feliks wasn't sure. He tried not to think about it but it happened to cross his mind sometimes, over the next week. When he looked at a shirt of his that he though Toris would compliment or when he saw someone jogging outside his window.

Feliks was, quite frankly, a little pissed that this was something he had to think about without pretense so he did his best to try not to.

The coping mechanism was at least a productive one. After the fourteenth, the next day his room was clean, then his other rooms the next day. He was sure it was just going to get dirty again but after his house was clean, and that made way for the true thing he was sure would get his mind off of his suckling crush:

Christmas shopping.

He had various things to get for various people. For his mother, he wanted to get a fancy drink set and chocolates. His father would get some sort of sport something-or-other. He needed to call and see what he was into these days; he'd have to hurry since it would take a bit for it to get to Poland but he had the cash to send something overnight if he wanted. His grandparents would get some nice clothes, most likely pajamas he decided. Lis would get whatever she wanted and some cologne (of course she would be weird enough to wear cologne, he thought). Feliciano would also need something air mailed. Maybe some kind of cooking utensils. A tie. He would probably like anything.

Toris was hard to shop for until he got the paper on Saturday and went through their It's-Almost-Christmas-So-Everything-Is-On-Sale ads. A local furniture store was having bottom of the barrel sales. It was time for him and his family to have a couch that wasn't crusty and dusty and probably should be steam cleaned a few dozen times. A new couch sounded perfect.

Toris called him a bit later in the day, around lunch. Feliks was in the middle of takeout when he answered the phone.

"Yup." He answered, more interested and vastly more in love with his sweet and sour chicken than the man on the other end of the phone.

"Hey. How's Christmas prep going?" Toris asked, a jovial tone.

Feliks looked around. His house was slowly getting a little cluttered again but he had gotten out a lot of his Christmas knick knacks. Tinsels, wrapping paper, various decorations, his stocking from when he was a child. There was a lot more in his garage (which was the only room he neglected to clean), like his Christmas ornaments. He chewed a bit before responding. "Getting there."

"Oh, that's good. We got everything up a bit ago. But I have to go get the tree soon. Which was kind of why I called—"

Feliks couldn't help but cut him off. "Oh my gosh, I always have to get one of the huge real ones. There's a place me and my family go to uptown. It's soooo great."

"Well, like I was saying." Toris said, a modicum of exasperation peeking through his voice. "I wanted to know if you'd got yours yet. If you wanted to get one together."

"Oh!" Feliks chewed excitedly. "Duh, of course! I was planning on getting one soon. So come on over if you can."

"Okay, okay. We'll go to your place then. The tree place."

"Of course. They are, like, so perfect. You will not be disappointed."

"I'm sure. I'll be there in thirty." Toris hung up and Feliks chunked his phone on the couch. He had to hurry and finish his chicken.

Saturdays were his especially lazy days so he could retain all his energy for getting up super early to go to church on Sundays. He hadn't even gotten dressed or done the advanced personal grooming he usually did since no one really bothered him on Saturdays anymore anyway, knowing his scheduled holy times. He went through a routine of going through his closet, a bite of chicken, getting dressed with bites in between, straightening his bangs while eating chicken. He was ready long after the food was already gone. A lot of time was consumed by picking out pants and then finding a wallet to fit and go with the pants as well as wondering if he should wear a hat or not. Difficult decisions for the modern man.

When he got back downstairs it was a little over thirty minutes and he could tell because there was knocking at his door. He quickly stepped to the living room, eyeing the three other takeout boxes he wasn't going to be able to eat.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." He mumbled, fixing one of his socks as he hobbled along. "Is it unlocked?" He spoke louder this time.

The doorknob turned and came forward as Feliks was almost to the foyer, stumbling over pulling up his long sock. Toris poked a bit of his head in before opening the door fully. "Oh. It was?"

"Thank goodness." He finally got the sock on right. "Oh...how'd you get in the place without my password."

"I remembered it from last time." Toris came in, closing the door but not without letting a bit of the slow snowfall in. "Zero-zero-five-six-nine-nine-three."

Feliks laughed. "Hey, you did. I have to look at my little slip half the time."

Toris unwound the same scarf he had on the last time. and hung it on the pegs of the rack. "I don't know if you want to leave right away or not. But I have today off so it's no big deal if you don't."

"Oh thank goodness. I have takeout and it would be a crime to leave it here."

"Oh, you can eat then, that's fine." Toris then began to unbutton his long and large jacket. "Don't mind me."

"Whatever, dude, just relax. You don't have to sound like you're at a job interview all the time." Feliks turned on his heel, going back to sit down. "I always get two orders of ginger chicken so you can have some. I just save it for dinner but that's not some big thing."

Toris should consider this a large blessing, he thought, since sharing takeout was something he never did and coveted every bite. Being in like made him do crazy things.

"Oh, thank you." Toris had a seat on the couch. "I can't remember the last time I had Chinese."

"I think the takeout dude probably knows me better than Lis does." Feliks took a seat himself, scooting a takeout container marked GC towards his friend. "Oh yeah, let me get you a fork."

"No chopsticks? That's weird." Toris mused, taking the box and opening it.

"They give me some every time but I never use them. They're pretty good for unclogging drains and everything, though."

"Isn't that normally how you eat Chinese?" Toris asked, looking at Feliks with questioning eyes.

"Not me. Fork all the way. Chopsticks are so weird. Who eats food with sticks? I wasn't raised in a cave." He turned around, not thinking about how that was probably a bigoted thing to say. It took him a few moments to grab two forks but paused, looking at the chopsticks he'd thrown in the drawer earlier. Fine. Toris was worth getting rid of two sink uncloggers.

"Here." He tossed them to Toris when he reentered the living room. "Knock yourself out."

"Thanks," Toris quickly broke them apart after taking them from their thin paper sheath. "It just doesn't feel right without these."

"Have fun being a caveman." Feliks rolled his eyes, stabbing his fork into his chicken.

Feliks ate quickly, excited to go out and get his tree while Toris ate normally, chewing thoroughly. Feliks was finished quickly, moving onto the unopened box left containing his lo mein. He twirled them onto his fork like spaghetti. At the same time, he could stop looking at Toris taking the chopsticks and grabbing chicken, bringing it to his mouth. Over and over he watched, envious.

"Hey," Feliks finally spoke up, lo mein half gone. "Show me how to use those."

"It's not too hard." Toris unfolded them from his fingers and handed them over. "I'll tell you how to hold them."

"I'm not dumb, and like. I used to be a pro at this. I just forgot." A lie.

"Of course. So take this one." Touching the bottom chopstick in Feliks' hand. "Put it in between your thumb and your index. This part." He scooted over to touch the fleshy area between Feliks' right hand fingers. "The ring finger will just hold it in place when you hold your hand right."

Toris had a grip on Feliks' hand now, maneuvering the fingers to hold the one chopstick. He opened his other hand and Feliks handed over the other stick. "Now you hold this one kind of like a pen or pencil. You use your first three fingers. This is the one you move so you need the most durable fingers to work it."

"You don't move them both?" Feliks asked, forgetting he was supposed to be only a bit rusty.

"Nope, just the top. Okay, so try to grab some chicken."

Feliks shakily moved them to the ginger chicken, pinching them hard when he finally got to a piece. He tried to move just the top one but somehow doing so just made the chopstick fling itself from his fingers and back to the couch. Toris grabbed it and handed it back.

"Just put it back and try again. It's kind of hard at first, I know."

"I told you, I'm an expert! It's just been a while...and it's, like. Cold." He was trying again and lo and behold, grabbed a piece of chicken. Success! He, Feliks, was a bonafide chicken master.

Until, unfortunately, his overzealousness at how he had conquered the chicken was his downfall. Halfway to his mouth, the chicken landed with a plop onto the carpet. Both men stared at it for a good minute.

Feliks gave up. He threw one of the chopsticks behind him, much to Toris' dismay, and simply stabbed a chicken piece with the end of the one he was keeping in his hand.

"I did it! I so did it! I told you I could use chopsticks."

Toris was clambering over the couch, retrieving his discarded, and now covered in carpet fuzz, eating utensil.

"No you didn't. That's not at all how you use those!"

"In my house, that's how we use them. You don't want to break a house rule, do you? Totally rude." Feliks nodded, eating his chicken with pride.

"You just made that up! You didn't say anything while I was eating, did you?" Toris was giving him a look, eyebrows slanted.

Feliks sighed, shaking his head. "Listen. Am I rude? No. I didn't want to tell you you were using them wrong. That would make me a really crumby host, okay? So you should thank me because I'm literally the nicest person alive."

Toris couldn't really say anything to that, at least not that would be any good or worthwhile in Feliks' eyes. He was definitely right. He should get a plaque to put on the wall with his new chopstick rule. Toris instead just took back his chopstick from Feliks hand, the tip still in his mouth. He threw his hands up, shocked by the forward action.

"Dude, really?"

"Well, I need to eat if we're going to leave." He deftly put the chopsticks back in his fingers, continuing to eat. "Thank you again for the food."

Feliks rolled his eyes. Lis had mentioned, and he was sure he himself had thought it too, that Toris had a sort of mother hen like nature. He was very complimentary and encouraging but also reprimanding and realistic. Feliks wondered if that wasn't a turn off as being too mom-like because his own mother was a more free-spirited person who just let Feliks do whatever he wished. Something about someone being skeptical and roping him in in a strange way was complimenting to his non-thinking, childish attitude. Feliks liked that.

He finished his lo mein still before Toris finished his chicken, though it didn't take him much longer after that. It was only two twenty-eight, so there wasn't any true rush although Feliks was getting antsy. As soon as Feliks watched Toris' adam's apple bob at swallowing his last bite he shot up.

"Okay, so here is my plan. I hope you have a lot of trunk space."

\-----

They were on the road after Toris redressed in his weather-acclimating clothes and Feliks used the restroom, making sure everything looked fine and that he wouldn't need to pee during the car ride.

Toris car was as dingy on the inside as it was on the outside. It had an ugly orange-brown interior colour scheme that made Feliks think of baby food and other unmentionable gross things. Toris had mentioned before that he cleaned it regularly, so Feliks always supposed that what grime was left was deep set in. The seats had various stains which a few were in places Feliks found questionable like the back of his headrest. Toris had the heat on as they drove across the long bridge connecting the two parts of town. It smelled like it was burning somewhere under the hood which Feliks had whined about when it was turned on but quickly shut up when Toris turned it off and he began to freeze. So it remained on for the rest of the trip.

"Okay, so do you get the plan?" Feliks asked, twisting the knob on his air vent off for a bit.

"Yes, we just went over it." Toris said, sighing.

"What is it then? I don't trust you not to forget something important. Because this is super important."

"You said you wanted to go get the trees later and I agreed. You said you wanted to go shopping first and I agreed. We're going to that classy mall then to another department store, which I agreed to. Then you want food, which I also agreed to. Then the tree place. Did I forget anything?"

"No. The mall is called Pepperidge Community Mall and the department story is called Lunette's, by the way. These are important details."

"Okay, alright. Pepperidge and Lunette's. I've got it."

"Good. I hope you brought your lists and everything. Because I totally know what I want for everyone and everything—" He cut himself off, remembering something. "Oh my gosh, also. There's another place I want to go. We can go after food. It's real close, I'll show you."

"Feliks, I really just wanted to get a Christmas tree, not be a chauffeur." Toris breathed, exasperated. "This is a lot of shopping you want to do."

"Don't worry about it, really dude." Feliks waved him off. "It'll be so fun you won't even care."

"I don't know about that." Toris stopped at the bridge light, turning after it stopped flashing and onto a large main road.

"Have you ever been here before? This mall. It's soooo big. You could get lost in there and probably never come out."

"No. Well. I'll see when we get there. I went to a mall when I lived with, uh. Him. And it was one of these fancy places."

"If it was this one then that will suck. I want to see your eyes go all wide when you see it because it's kind of like a castle."

"I'm not exactly the kind to be impressed by a mall."

"Just trust me. It's like the Taj Mahal of malls. Believe me."

"Just tell me what road to go down and I'll tell you what I think when I see it." He replied.

"It's something that starts with a V I think."

"Victrola?"

"Yeah, that's totally it."

"You mean the street I just passed?"

"Oops. I guess so."

After a U-turn and a few side street, Toris was pulling into the parking lot of a very large and intricate looking mall. The parking lot itself was extremely massive, filled with nice SUVs and convertibles, a lot of which Feliks would point out the window and exclaim excitedly "That's the kind of car I'd get", usually at cherry red soft tops and green BMWs. Toris sandwiched his Saturn in between one just like that and a White SUV with the paper plates still on it, parts of a red ribbon still sticking out from the door creases. An obvious early Christmas present. There was a stark contrasting difference between his car and most of the others. There were some older models but they were glossy, refinished. Toris kind of stared at his car after they both got out, having to slam his own door a few times to make it stick.

"So what all do you want to get here?" Toris asked, Feliks already half way across the large streetway in front of the mall's perimeter.

"Uh. Pretty much everything for every body. I made a list. Chocolates, one of those fancy drink sets. Oh, I need to text my dad. And Lis. They have a perfume outlet so I need to go there. I don't know. A bunch. If I see something that's cool, I'll get it."

"You don't mean to go into every one of these stores, do you? Toris asked, looking at him and trying to match Feliks' sudden speed walk.

"No. But I have to look at all of them and then decide if I want to go in or not. There's only the two floors so it shouldn't take too long."

"Two floors?!" Toris seemed appalled. "What's wrong with just one?"

"Are you dumb? How do you fit two hundred stores on one floor?" Feliks rolled his eyes, passing quickly through the revolving door in front of them without waiting for Toris. He was on a mission. A very important Christmas mission.

Toris was at least grateful that Feliks was a bit methodical about this, especially since the mall was pretty bustling. Once they got in, Feliks beelined to the left and started to examine stores one by one. The first few were of no interest as he wasn't one to buy people technology and the first shop was nothing but wires and gizmos as far as Toris could tell. Feliks even made a frightened face looking at it. The second was a high class maternity clothing store which Feliks looked at, rolled his eyes, and continued to walk. An eyeglass kiosk and vitamin dispensary were also skimmed over. 

The fifth, though, Feliks halted in front of and zoomed inside.

"Shoes? Were shoes on your list?" Toris asked, skeptical as Feliks held a pastel and wood-soled pump up to examine it.

"No. But I like this colour. Can you believe chicks wear stuff like this? Why would you torture yourself like this." Feliks swung it around by the pointed heel, watching it turn with disgust.

"I've never really thought about it before." Toris mused, watching it as well.

"But I'm so reminded. Let me text Lis. Grab some sneakers for one of your kid relatives or something." Feliks said, putting the shoe down and grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket. Toris wandered off while he typed out a text message.

{ tell me what u want for christmas }

She didn't respond immediately, giving Feliks a quick minute to glance around the store. He had been in Bridget's before with his mother many times. It was a women's shoe store, nothing for men in it at all. Women's socks, women's garters, women's stockings. He remembered her trying on many shoes, buying many pairs, and wearing them many times.

Which brought him to something else he was a little bit concerned about where Toris was involved.

He wondered, sometimes, if he couldn't find anything else to wonder about at night, if some strange attachment issue caused him to have some sort of psychosis like they always said in those really bad movies and shows he'd seen where someone always told a gay guy he had mommy issues. It was hard to look up what he was worried about because a lot of stuff talked about strange things related to gender and sex and all kinds of stuff he never cared about, from seven and eight on up to now. But as long as he remembered, he was always, always, inexplicably interested in women's clothing.

Not just looking at it or feeling it or things like that. He wondered, sometimes when he was a preteen, if this conflicted with how his heart would flutter when a boy who looked nice looked his way. But he didn't want to look at people wearing them any more than most. He wasn't looking at the people in them or what was under the blouse or nice pleated skirt. He wanted to wear them. Feliks didn't want to feel the fabrics on someone else, but his own skin because they felt nice. And the right garments, he found out one day while secretly raiding his mother's closet and looking in her large standing mirror, that he looked good. Really good.

Now, Feliks wasn't ashamed of any of his interests or things about himself. But he was realistic. He knew that people could be very judgemental and drastic. It was stupid as a grown man to go out to the convenience store in a skirt and pink sweater. He could be considered androgynous in a lot of clothing, passable from a distance in others. But it was basically suicide, even in this day and age, to go out crossdressing as a man just whenever he wanted. He also didn't advertise it to just any person, partially because he wasn't the kind of guy to just know and talk to personally with just any person. Lis knew, of course, and she loved it. It was just another one of their weird hobbies that happened to synch up which made her one of the best people in the world to know. Feliciano also knew and would even dress up with him sometimes, though it wasn't exactly a hobby.

Feliks didn't think Toris would disapprove of any of any of these things, of course. Toris was nice. He wouldn't like him if he didn't think he was nice. But it could also be something that he found strange, or too much. Those things were contradictory a little, but a lot of things that make people nervous are, Feliks thought.

He ran through all of these things while he picked up a very nice pair of lace flats. Feliks had small feet, which he found to be a blessing, and had also gotten used to having to look at things in stores and knowing if they would fit or not. He couldn't just take things into fitting rooms or try shoes on at a place like this. The ones he picked up were eights, which was a size too small, but they probably had nines; that wasn't an unusual size. If he really wanted them he would just tell Toris they were for Lis. He liked being familiar with him, but he was always at least aware that some things are saved for down the road.

Which Lis was very good at knowing just when to text.

[ get me something girly. i need something to wear for new years. ]

{ sure. dont b sad if u dont like what i get u }

[ i'm sure it will be fine. you're the expert after all. ]

{ ofc }

Perfect. A wonderful cover for getting the shoes. He grabbed this display pair to bring up to the counter but not before he stopped at one of the small stations that sold hosiery and got a thick and sheer set of white hose and leggings for them. Perfect. A Christmas gift for himself.

Toris was sitting on a stool next to the cash register where they did fittings, but the store was relatively not busy. Feliks only saw one other customer, which was lucky. "Ready?" He asked, looking Toris up and down while he slumped on his stool.

"Yup." He managed, getting up. "Find something?"

"Yeah. For Lis." Feliks showed the shoes. "But I need a bigger size than these. You really just buy the boxes from in the back anyway. The displays are kind of just. Display."

"Those are really cute." Toris looked them over, even fingering the lace. "I bet she'll really like them."

"Yeah that's what I'm hoping." Feliks said quickly as the cashier woman arrived.

Feliks payed for the shoes, luckily available in size nine, as well as the tights. He was excited to have something new to put into his closet and try on. It actually made him happier than he thought it would to hear Toris say they were cute. He knew it was in general. He knew it didn't mean he thought they'd be cute on him; that probably hadn't even crossed Toris' mind. Actually, it was very unlikely. A non-consideration.

They ran across a few other shops, only going into one other one for a while. Feliks thought it would be cute to get candles for everyone he was getting stuff for ("Who doesn't like a candle? I mean really?") to put in a set. Toris was really sensitive to the smells so stood on the outside of the store at first, but Feliks dragged him in eventually to test candles.

"Does this smell kind of Italian-y to you?" He asked, shoving a cherry candle in his face.

"All I smell is fruit." Toris blinked, wondering how cherries translated to something Italian.

"This sucks. They don't have any Italian candle." Feliks groaned, capping the candle and putting it back on the shelf.

"What exactly is Italy supposed to smell like?" Toris asked, honestly curious.

"I don't know. Cheese and butter and tomatoes and salt. And being tan."

"None of those sound like good candle scents. Or would be something that I'd want to smell for very long."

Feliks was determined, though, scouring everything until he found something perfect. He grabbed a few candles during his search. Lemon for his dad, brown sugar for his mother, sugar cookie for Lis, two mountain scented candles for his grandparents. Finally he found something.

"Italian Blood Orange." He read of while Toris sniffed. "I told you I'd find something."

"Smells like orange. And kind of spicy." Toris mused, trying to think of how to describe it. "Is that all of them then."

"Nope," Toris added the candle to one of the paper shopping bags they offered for holding products. "I have to find yours."

Toris looked at his feet, smiling. "You don't have to worry about me. I don't really need a candle."

"Feli doesn't need to have a blood orange scented house either but it's Christmas so, like. Deal with it. I just gotta find out what scent suits you."

"I'm not really sure. I can't remember the last time we really used a scented candle or incense or anything like that."

"Hmmm." Feliks tapped his lips while he went down the wall. A lot of the scents were obvious nos. Citrus mango, no. Peppermint, no. Leather interior, no. They didn't sell a dingy car-scented candle or an easy sleeper-scented candle. He tried to sum Toris up in a smell while he went over rows and rows of votives and jar candles, only going to pick the best. Toris plodded along, occasionally sniffing things and make a disgusted face or seem to be interested in the smell. It was definitely more so the former rather than the latter.

Feliks blindly picked up one candle, uncapping it with a sigh. He didn't have time to spend hours in a store today with so much stuff to get. Inhaling, though, he was very surprised. He liked this particular smell a lot but couldn't identify it without looking at the label. It was just very clean. It smelled kind of like going to bed early on clean sheets and waking up with the sun high in the sky. He whipped his hand to put it in Toris' face.

"What do you think about this, huh?" Feliks asked, examining the label now. Toris sniffed, not making the usual 'yuck' face.

"I really like that. What is it?" He grabbed the candle for himself, inhaling the nice smell.

"Linen. When I say that isn't that kind of fitting, right?"

"Yeah. I get that. It reminds me of clean sheets." He nodded, handing the candle back.

"That's totally what I thought." He sniffed it again himself. "Alright, this is the one for you."

"I don't mind that." Toris shuffled around a bit. "Thank you."

They moved to the register, having to deal with a bit of a line at this place. They both stood there, discussing the candles Feliks was getting when a little standing rack caught Feliks attention. It was wrought-iron with small rods coming out in every which way with loops attached to the ends. Each loop held a belled out candle, small in size and surrounded around the sides and base with glass.

"Hold my place in line, I have got to go look at these things." Feliks exclaimed, handing Toris the paper bag and jogging over. The small candles were so cute, he noticed, sitting in their little open glasses. The labels were also obscured so he made a quick game out of guessing the scents. An orange one proved to be simply orange, a dark one was black cherry, a dusky orange one stumped him and he discovered it was called 'Sunset Rouge'. Feliks coughed and sputtered at one that ended up being grass-scented, which he heard Toris laughing at from the line.

A brown one caused Feliks to stop for a bit, though, sniffing it for a long time. He closed his eyes and smelled deeply. It was so familiar. He must have been smelling for a long time, somehow unable to place something he knew so simply; he just knew he was familiar with that smell. Toris finally called for him.

"Feliks? We're next."

That was when he realized what it was. A both cold and warming smell because it made him think of being out in the cold but then being enveloped with warmth. He didn't recognize it at first because it didn't smell as sweet as he would have preferred. This would be another gift to himself.

"Fine, fine." He grabbed it and hopped back over in time for the woman carrying a million bags that was in front of them cleared the way. Toris already had the bag on the counter, removing the candles as Feliks stuck the new one under his nose. "Recognize that?"

"Yes...?" Toris sniffed it and looked at Feliks, questioningly. "Is this a trick question?"

"No. Just wondering." Feliks placed the candle on the counter with the others. The label read "Coffee House".

\-----

They had gone through a flurry of stores within an hour and a half. Feliks had bought a thing or two in a couple of stores. A bedroom store was selling silk and flannel pajama sets with matching robes which he purchased for grandparents.

Toris was made to carry those.

A stocked vendor was selling Swiss chocolates made fresh that morning which Feliks had to buy for his mother as well as chocolate straws for himself.

Toris was made to carry that.

There were also two bookstores on the first level that had glossy photo books which Feliks had to scour both to find a large photographic guide to Italy for Feliciano. Which they had to go back and forth twice so Feliks could choose between two of them.

Toris had to go to both stores three times and was made to carry that.

"Feliks, can we please stop for a bit." He breathed, tired of running around being the one to carry all the weight.

"Yeah, fine. We should eat anyway." He decided, feeling hungry from all of his aggressive Christmas shopping. "What are you in the mood for."

"I don't really care," Toris shifted the weight from all the bags and bundles around. "Does this place not have a shopping cart dispenser..."

"Have you ever been in a mall? Of course they don't have shopping carts."

"I guess the best method of grocery-carrying is a friend with better arm strength." Toris sarcastically mumbled.

"Yup." Feliks responded. "Looking for all the Italian stuff has me craving, like, twelve breadsticks."

"Do they even have Italian food here? I haven't seen one restaurant." Toris asked, stopping in the middle of their stroll. "Do I need to lug all this to the car?"

"No, dummy. All the food is on the second floor. They've got a lot of everything in the food court."

"I somehow didn't expect a place like this to have a food court." Toris smiled, feeling glad to deal with something a little normal. "But is there an elevator or something?"

"No," Feliks continued to move. The mall was very twisting and turning in its structure, making several giant S-shapes. "After you go around this one curve there's some, uh. Escalators. The stair things that move."

"Really? I've actually never been on one before." Toris started walking too, hefting the pajama bag up higher on his arm.

"Do I really need to teach you how to use an escalator?" Feliks cocked an eyebrow, looking at his friend.

"I'm not an idiot. I know HOW to use one." Toris emphasized, turning the bend and grabbing onto Feliks arm. That shocked the other man a bit since he'd stopped to look at nice sweets display but was instead pulled back into walking. He made a note that when Toris meant business, he truly meant business.

Or that maybe he just really, really wanted to sit down.

Feliks was prepared to have to give Toris an escalator 101, but he was deft and getting on and getting off, even carrying a lot. He himself was always a bit paranoid about them since he'd seen the movies. Sometimes your clothes get stuck in them and suddenly you're naked or your skin melts off, depending on what channel you were watching. 

They made it to the upper without incident and Toris face seemed stoney when they stepped off.

"Something up?" Feliks asked, staring.

"This just wasn't what I had in mind when it comes to a food court."

It certain wasn't a normal food court. More like a restaurant alley. Whereas normal food courts had small versions of restaurants or food carts, this second story had about ten large restaurants laid out like normal stores on this one bend alone. Some he recognized as large chains, but others seemed to be specialty places, serving specific or niche cuisine.

"Nah. It's not like corn dogs and a Chick-Fil-A. Have you ever had astronaut food? One of the places around here somewhere has it. My mom brought me for a birthday once? It was cool but I would rather just have a burger or something."

"I can't say I have."

"It was like little cubes. We had ice cream too and it wasn't even cold, it was just dry and tasted kind of like a flavour of something. Really weird. Totally would have rather had a burger."

They passed the first block of restaurants, Toris almost nervous at the sheer amount of them and styles. It was a bit of a walk before they finally reached a restaurant that Feliks found suitable: Mangia!

"Have you ever eaten at an Italian place?" Feliks asked as they were waiting to be seated inside.

"Yes. A few times. Birthdays and such." Toris answered, observing the atmosphere. The restaurant was very dark inside, with a candlelit night time feel. The only place that was illuminated with something other than real candles or faux candles was a bar area, lit with dark halogens so even that wasn't that bright. The walls were wine coloured, adorned with different things like paintings, sculptures, and pictures of the restaurant in various years with various employees. Very stereotypically Italian in a lot of ways.

"What about working in an Italian place." Feliks nudged him, revisiting the idea that Toris should leave his stressful coffee shop job to do something that paid better.

"...I do work at an Italian place." Toris looked down at Feliks, disbelieving.

"What? No you don't. It's a coffee place."

"Feliks. The name is Italian. The menu is Italian. My boss is literally an Italian." Toris whispered harshly as a waiter arrived. Feliks indeed remembered that that was indeed correct and very, very obvious.

The took their seats at a four-seater table in the back and Feliks was grateful to not have to come up with a defense for being continually ignorant of Toris' job. Feliks ordered a diet soda and Toris got unsweetened tea which Feliks found boring. There was a bit of silence after the waiter left with their drink order, but while Feliks was concerned about possibly Toris being upset, he looked up from his place setting, menu unopened, and Toris was just reclining, bags and parcels on the ground or in this chair next to him. He breathed in relief.

"So what are you getting?" Feliks asked, opening his menu. He was starving so he would probably get at least one appetizer and an entree plus dessert. And breadsticks. Butter sauce and a cheese spread.

"I'm not sure." Toris got up, lifting his neck from the back of his chair. "I need to look." He picked up the menu, opening it, face hidden by the tall paper, tri-fold menu.

"I've been here like two thousand times so I know what you should really get. Or what's good. Which are basically the same." Feliks' eyes scrubbed the appetizers. "I'm so getting the baby calamari. It's so sad but also cute? The little squiddy arms are delicious."

"Yeah the appetizers and side orders aren't that bad looking." Toris replied, thinking as he absorbed the menu. "I'll probably just get the bread and olive oil and fried ravioli."

"Dude, at least get an entree." Feliks sat his menu down, giving Toris a look. "I will personally get you an entree."

"No, no. I'm fine with these." He folded his menu up and put it down. "If you need more time, then you can take some. I'm sure he'll ask for an appetizer order first."

"You don't know me. I totally have what I want as soon as I look once." Feliks snapped his fingers.

"Then I guess we're ready." Toris handed his menu over in preparation of the waiter coming.

He arrived a few seconds later with drinks and breadsticks, which Feliks immediately began eating, the basket not even on the table yet. The waiter asked Toris first while Feliks drank and stuffed his face but was immediately on the ball when it was his turn to be asked.

"Okay, so calamari. Try to give as much as you can. The mozzarella sticks sound good too. You wanna split? Yeah, sure." Feliks looked over to Toris but answered before he could even open his mouth. "I totally want veal florentine. The shrimp alfredo too. And, uh." Feliks took a second to look at Toris before looking back at the menu. "The cannelloni. Put a cheesecake piece on reserve and also a tiramisu." 

The waiter wrote furiously as Feliks handed the menus over, not wanting to make eye contact. He was hungry so his nerves weren't as bad but the less he had to deal with the wait staff, the better.

Soon, the waiter was off and Feliks had eaten most of the breadsticks, Toris snacking on one slowly. They made small chit chat while they waited, Feliks more interested in eating. The appetizers came which was all Toris ordered for himself, so he tucked in. Feliks apportioned a little of his calamari and mozzarella sticks to him as well, which he was very thankful for.

Feliks realized a little late that twenty dollar veal dishes weren't something Toris was going to spend money on. Thus when the entrees arrived and Feliks was already done with all his bread plus his appetizers and Toris was still eating, the fact that he ordered three entrees wasn't suspect.

"The veal florentine." A plate in front of Feliks. "Shrimp alfredo." Another plate in front of Feliks. "And the cannell-"

"That's for him." Feliks said quickly, shoving forks and spoons into his dishes.

"Feliks, I didn't order that." Toris looked from the waiter to his companion.

"Yeah, but I did. So eat it or something." Feliks quickly harpooned a shrimp and twirled alfredo-covered noodles onto his pasta spoon, not wanting to get into a waiter conversation. Also he felt like gloating and being proud of his food-giving but not while a stranger was around.

The waiter eventually just put the plate in front of Toris, nodding and leaving but not before making note that Feliks needed another soda. Toris looked from the plate to Feliks and whispered across the table. "Thank you. You didn't have to."

"Who goes to a restaurant and doesn't get food, dude? Like come on. I can't watch you eat fried ravioli while I eat twelve things and not make you eat something. You can have some shrimp too, I don't care."

Toris unwrapped his napkin containing more silverware and began to eat his newly given entree, bowing his head. "It was very nice of you. You can be a very nice person."

"Tell me something I don't know." He said in between veal slabs. He was thankful for the darkened restaurant so Toris couldn't see a light flush to his face.

\-----

Even Feliks had to surrender himself to fullness after this meal. It had been about three hours since he'd eaten all that takeout and had shoveled down two and a half entrees, two appetizers, two drinks, and enough breadsticks to feed a platoon. Walking out of the restaurant at a crawl after tipping and paying, he felt woozy.

"Let's get this over with already." He groaned, rubbing his mid-section.

"I never thought I'd see the day you gave up eating." Toris chuckled, carrying the bags from before plus two Styrofoam to-go boxes.

"Whatever. I still have to get a golf bag. Plus cologne." Feliks pulled his phone out, checking his watch. It was a little after three so there was still time to do things.

"Also, you do realize you didn't follow your own plan, right? It was mall, department store, that other store, food, tree." Toris looked down at Feliks, standing in bloated misery, with a smile on his face.

"Who says I won't want food by then? It'll be dinner. We'll be hungry."

"I don't know, you look a little overstuf-"

"I have stuff to buy." Embarrassed and agitated by discomfort and teasing barbs, he continued back the way they'd came. Toris trailed behind him.

The next few stops were quick, which Toris was thankful for. His arms were obviously tired as displayed by shuffling of bags every few steps. Feliks was aware, but his quick pace was more so because he didn't want to walk forever on a full stomach that was starting to ache horribly. The escalator trip down would have been a saving grace if he didn't have to stand. But as they walked, the more they did, the more Feliks felt better. Maybe that was the power of exercise, or something. That didn't stop him from wanting to sit down, however, so it was definitely a quick trip this time around. Well, as quick as Feliks could ever be. There was a stop in at a sporting good outlet to grab a golf bag, having texted his father while letting his food settle and receiving a definitive answer on his gift. Toris wondered how that would go via air mail. Feliks seemed flippant.

The other stop was at a perfume outlet, where Feliks decided his stomach wasn't so achy that he could stand in there for thirty minutes looking for a perfume for Lis. Toris looked woozy and disgruntled by the smell and the weight (being the one to carry everything plus the takeout plus the new golf bag). He was also Feliks' test strip.

Feliks would spray a large cloud of tester cologne and command Toris. "Walk."

Closing his eyes tight, Toris would walk through the mist, trying not to inhale too much, eyes watering in spite of his efforts.

"Okay, so how does that smell." Feliks leaned in, sniffing.

"All I can smell is aerosol. Or however that gets out of the bottle." Toris coughed, trying not to disrupt the scientific smelling process and set them back an hour.

"It's okay. Stand still and I'll find another one."

The process seemed to drag on until Feliks finally found one that he preferred for Lis. Something that smelled like both fruit and something earthy. Ambiguous but masculine. Seemed fitting enough.

"So do you think you're done now?" Toris asked, as they walked out of the store, Toris finally being reprieved of carrying another bag ("Uh, this is glass. You are _not_ breaking this.") while Feliks carried the dressed up sack on his arm.

"Yeah, man. I don't think we need to go to that department store. I'm so pooped right now. I just wanna sit down. Maybe get something from a taco truck, go-"

"You want to eat _again_?" Toris questioned, but glad that they were ready to go AND knocking off a place to visit. He wasn't sure where they would find a taco truck, though.

"I walked it off. I'm feeling peckish, okay? Like. I need fuel to shop and walk. And breathe."

"Whatever you say, sir."

Returning to the car was a blessing in both of their eyes. Feliks' things were organized in the trunk and the backseat of Toris' car with careful instruction and the two were in their respective seats, sighing. Toris relieved to lose the extra weight, Feliks relieved to rest his legs and fully let his stomach rest.

"Okay, so we still need to go to that other store, though. It's right around the corner so it's not a huge deal. If that's okay, anyway?" Feliks nicely asked, smiling at his concierge for the day. Toris looked at him with an indescribable look of wonder and confusion but still sighed.

"Yes. Just tell me how to get there. I really hope it's not another mall."

"Please. I don't even want to look at a mall right now." Feliks complained, shielding his eyes in protest as Toris finally turned the engine over, the pair driving away.

\-----

Feliks was more observant with directions this time, having jotted down the address of where he wanted to go on a strip of ripped newspaper, tucking it into his phone case. He may or may not have purposefully made Toris take a few misguided turns just to keep off his feet a few extra minutes, but they still got there within five minutes. Toris drove smoothly with no complaints, pulling into the parking lot of a place called "Kirr Furniture".

"Redecorating your living room or more gifts?" He asked, turning the car off and sitting for a second, letting Feliks collect himself and his things.

"Gifts. Maybe both. If I see something cool I'll buy it."

He could see it in his eyes; Toris flashbacked to Feliks' cluttered garage filled with things he had no business buying.

"I'll be right with you on this one..." He mumbled, Feliks rolling his eyes. A blessing and a curse. There to ruin his shopping high but also there to make sure he didn't drop a thousand dollars on ornamental lawn globes.

The duo exited the car, walking up to the store in a bit of a bluster, snow beginning to fall. The warmth of the large furniture warehouse was refreshing, the AC even and not holding a burnt smell like the one in the car. The deep inhale and exhales they exhibited were almost simultaneous.

"Soooo." Feliks sing-songed. "You remember how you said my couch was like. Kind of weird for my room?"

"Oh, if that's what it's about, please don't feel obligated to spend money because I said something like that. I don't exactly have a lot of style taste or anything." Toris hurriedly told him, almost pleading.

"No, silly, it's okay. I just wanted to do some window shopping for myself. In case I wanted to change. I, uh. Need to get Lis. Drapes."

Feliks wasn't a great liar. Toris noticed.

"I really sorry, I spoke a little out of turn when I was talking about that. So please, please don't drop so much money on my word."

"Just find a nice couch." Feliks pushed him forward, almost irritated. He was way too nice, he decided. Truly the nicest person alive.

Toris obliged, begrudgingly, slowly walking through furniture sets. Feliks was glad that an employee assumed he was the one browsing so he himself didn't have anything to do with more unnecessary interaction. He busied himself looking at drapes, which there weren't many. But he pushed it to the limit, inspecting each one and the habric, the hems, smelling them just to look super involved. All the while his eyes darted to and from Toris and what he was looking at: the price tags. This dolt, he thought. More concerned about Feliks being wasteful instead of the nice gift he was trying to get him.

Grabbing a hanging ticket attached to the drapes, he briskly walked over. "I'm not dumb!" He called as he approached. "I have _eyes_."

"What? I like this one." Toris smiled politely, rubbing the thick plastic covering the couch closest to him. Feliks cocked an eyebrow, looking at the horrible print, broken foot, and red slashed price tag.

"Uh-huh. I can't tell if you really _do_ have bad taste or if you're just a super good liar." He wasn't unaware of the existence of sarcasm.

"I really don't see anything wrong with your old couch." Toris gave up, shoulders slumping and expression changing from one of fake happiness to exasperation.

"Oh my _God_ ," Feliks groaned loudly, frustrated enough to take the Lord's name in vain a day before church. "Will you stop being so concerned for three seconds and just actually look at a couch?"

Toris looked mad but said nothing, turning around and taking off his coat, obviously exasperated for the twelfth time today. "Fine. I'll look."

He was a lot more diligent this time, although not exactly of his own choice, and picked out a decent couch but still a humble model. It was cream-coloured, a simple carpet-like fabric which was at least the economic and reasonable choice for a durable, family-worn couch. It wasn't badly priced, though obviously not the cheapest money could buy.

"Does this suit you well enough?" Toris asked, leaning against it.

"Do you like it?" Feliks asked in return.

"I'm not the one who's going to be using it, Feliks." He returned, hands on his hips in an almost motherly defiance.

"I'll take that as a yes." He was tired of this game, throwing the drapes he'd been carrying around on it. "Come up to the counter so we can, like. Deal with the movers or whatever you have to do."

And so they did. Toris had re-donned his thick jacket, flattening his damp and mused hair while the two stood at the counter. 

"Oh yeah," Feliks piped up, trying to be sly instead of mildly annoyed. "I need to put you on my Christmas card list, huh? Give me your address. While I remember."Phone in hand, he was ready to be dictated to.

"Uh." Toris thought for a second. Feliks was smart enough to catch him during a moment of aggravation at a myriad of things. "1489 West Avenue J. Same zip code as yours, I'm sure."

"Thanks." Feliks typed slowly as the person at the front returned from talking to a couple at the customer service desk.

"What can I get for you today?" The woman asked cheerily.

"Oh uh," Feliks lost himself in the shyness for a bit. "I want that couch with the drape on it. Well. Not the ugly drapes. But take that couch and. Send it here."

Instead of giving an address, he slid his phone across the counter, which caused Toris to approach from his place behind Feliks.

"What are you doing?" He asked, confused and shocked.

Feliks turned while the woman behind the counter called over moving men and input the information into the computer. "Merry Christmas, dude."

"You got me a _couch_?" Toris hissed.

Feliks was confused. "Yeah. Cool, huh? Now you don't have to worry about that funky thing your family has." He couldn't help but be excited by his big and charitable gift.

"Really, I...I don't know what to say." Toris breathed, eyes wide and looking around. "Thank you Feliks, that's really too kind." 

"Don't have to tell me twice, man." Feliks elbowed him. "Don't let some brat stain it on the first day."

Toris rubbed his face, nodding at the counter, the woman at the front asking for a credit card or cash for payment. Feliks dealt with the information, swiping, signing, looking down and not making eye contact the entire time.

The things he did for like.

The transaction was completed, Feliks being informed of when he could expect it to be delivered, to be at the house or at least someone needed to be there to sign. Basic furniture things. After the transaction was complete, Feliks went to grab Toris whom he knew wasn't around for whatever reason, spotting him outside in the cold. Feliks tightened his own winter gear and pushed onward, not wanting to get out into the snow that was now steadily coming down.

"What're you doing freezing to death?" Feliks asked, as he exited the building. "Snowmen can't sit on a couch."

Toris didn't answer, just rubbed his hands together. Feliks frowned.

"Are you, like, mad or something? What's the deal? You've been moody for like...all day." Feliks looked at him, half-concerned, half-ready to be mad.

"I was! I really was." Toris said, loudly. Feliks was taken aback but Toris continued. "I'm sorry, Feliks, I shouldn't have snapped at you."

Feliks narrowed his eyes. "Whatever, dude, let's get in the car."

"Wait, please." Toris grabbed his friend's arm, not wanting to let him go. "I'm...just listen."

"What? Are you going to talk about how I'm just irritating? How many times do you think I've heard that one, Toris?" He really didn't want to be mad but he didn't expect this kind of treatment.

"No, no." Toris pleaded. "It's just that. All I really wanted to do today was go out with you, get a tree, go home and that would be it, that would be my day. But you have this way of...of making people do whatever you want. And maybe that's my fault, I don't know, maybe I'm just too flexible for my own good. But."

Toris was animated and Feliks didn't really know how to feel about this. Mad? Sad? Heartbroken?

But he continued.

"Inbetween you being demanding and unreasonable and just out of your mind you're just so _sweet_. And _interesting_. You're hilarious and generous and inbetween it all I can't even find the room to really be mad just. Confused."

Feliks felt himself flush in spite of himself. His brain skipped over the expletives of negativity. He kicked himself inwardly at how disgusting he was being inside. He should be furious. But all he truly heard were the good things. Sweet. Interesting. Hilarious. Generous. Toris couldn't be mad.

"And I've thought you were strange and selfish and I don't know, maybe it's true?" He rubbed his forehead. "And this sounds horrible, I'm sorry. But what I'm trying to say is...at the end of the day I guess I'm just emotional because. I can't believe you care about me this much."

Toris rubbed his face a few times while Feliks stared at him, gob-smacked.

"Of course I care. We're friends, right?" Feliks questioned, completely softened.

"Yeah," Toris nodded, voice a little cracked. "We're friends."

Feliks didn't really know what best to say to be comforting. And, again, he felt like he was being stupid to ignore what Toris was saying about how he was childishly obnoxious and aggravating. But he'd said it too. He'd heard it before. From friends, from family, from strangers. The difference was it wasn't often someone was basically saying to him: 'I like you just fine anyway.'

Especially someone whom he was in like with, indiscriminate and unavoidable like. The kind of like that could become love one day. Which is why he wrapped his arms around Toris, a little emotional himself now.

"Tor...can I call you Tor? Whatever, just shut up." Toris didn't answer. "But you could say whatever you want, Tor. How I'm dumb and waste money or how I laugh weird or don't know how to choose chopsticks. Whatever, I don't care. I'm just glad you're feeling that way..." He patted his back, feeling exactly what he said at that moment. He knew Toris wasn't crying. He couldn't feel it or see it when he looked up, just Toris looking down at him, both a little dumbfounded but happy looking. But he felt like he could cry if he wanted to. He didn't want to. "You could say you hated me and I'd still like you. So it's okay."

Toris hugged him back.


End file.
